Turning Point
by Darkeyes17
Summary: G1: Soundwave cannot excuse Megatron's actions. He has doubts about himself now, and tries to figure out what comes next. Every mech has a turning point: this is his. PLEASE READ WARNINGS INSIDE! Sticky slash.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I finish one plot, I begin another. Here is the first chapter of 'Tuning Point.' But first, here are some disclaimers (I do not in any way own Transformers) and warnings **PLEASE** **READ THESE – I AM NOT KIDDING**:

**Rating**: HEAVY NC-17, especially in this chapter.

**Pairings**: Main = Blaster/Soundwave. Minor: Skyfire/Starscream, Thundercracker/Skywarp, Prowl/Jazz.

**WARNINGS**: Do not read if you do not like Transformers doing 'sticky' sex. Slash. Warning for the _first_ chapter of rape, violence and non-con. The **rest of this fic is consensual** apart from this chapter. I know I have said I do not like to write rape, but my head-canon for this fic demands I write it to set up the story and Soundwave's mentality.

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 1<strong>

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><p>Soundwave ran down the halls of the Nemesis.<p>

Soundwave never ran in the Nemesis, unless it was getting ready for battle, and the only other time he ran like this was when he was _in_ battle.

There was no battle now.

His processor was in a frenzy, trying to block out the screams and shrieks for help and the desolate tone of those telepathically delivered messages, while also trying to calm them. But he knew that it would do no good. And now, he would be the one to save them. He panted, the second vocaliser in his mask making it sound odd, but that was the least of his concerns. Not in his wildest and most horrible recharge fluxes would he think that Megatron would stoop to such a level, to commit such a act of utter depravity and horror. Even his loyalty would not be blind to such an act.

It would be stopped.

And if not…

…well, he had not planned that far.

He palmed open the lift, dashing in and jabbing the button for two levels down. The soundproofed floor.

The navy mech took a moment to reflect on how ignorant he was, to ignore Starscream's uncharacteristic plea to help him a week ago. He had vowed, however, to keep a mental thread attached between them. If he hadn't he wouldn't have believed it. And he also felt an overwhelming amount of something he hadn't for a long time.

Guilt.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Spark pulsing hard in his chest, the telepath sprinted to the end of the hallway, inputting his override code, feeling only mildly relieved as the door opened, only to want to purge his tanks at the sickening visual that greeted him.

On the wall facing him, strung up in chains and held just above the floor, were Skywarp and Thundercracker. Energon bled from the restraints held too tight over their wrists and their wings were held high so that they would look smaller. Thundercracker had a livid expression on his faceplates. The cause of which was probably the dented lips of Skywarp and the ribbons of thick, silvery transfluid flowing out of his gaping mouth. The younger Seeker had a dazed, scared look on his face, a collar around his neck, and a great deal of wires around his neck ripped out. Coolant tears left haunting tracks across his cheeks from where they flowed out of his optic coolant lines.

But this was not the worst. No.

For shackled to a concrete slab on the floor was Starscream, gag in his mouth and coolant tears streaking down his grey faceplates with an expression of utter hopelessness. He had whip marks all over his chest, his cockpit glass cracked, and dents marring his frame. And pounding roughly into the normally proud Seeker's valve, was Megatron.

The warlord was panting with the force of his thrusts, but noticed the door open and looked up, and with a smirk, asked lazily, "Come to join in, Soundwave? Or here for the show?"

Soundwave did not reply, optics horrifically drawn to where Megatron's spike was held half-in, half-out of Starscream's valve, and was coated, not in lubricant – which was what would happen if such an act were consensual – but in energon. Meaning that Megatron was raping Starscream so hard that he had burst one of the energon tubes in the valve, adding to the pain that Soundwave had felt telepathically. Starscream looked at him weakly, some hope entering his optics.

'_You came…help…me…Soundwave.'_ The telepathic voice was broken, pleading. It did not sound like Starscream, but it was.

Gathering his wits, Soundwave said forcefully, "Megatron: Desist."

"Pfft, such a stick in the mud. You can watch then," scoffed Megatron, preparing to sink back into Starscream.

"Megatron: Desist. Now," Soundwave said again, a bite entering his usual monotone.

The tyrant looked up, pulling himself free of Starscream's pain-clenched valve and standing in front of his third, spike erect in the air as he growled, "Are you ordering me, Soundwave? You should know better."

"Repeat: Megatron, desist. Reason: damaging. Not functional to Decepticon cause," Soundwave reiterated, standing his ground. He hoped that Megatron would see reason, that there was a shred of mercy in that black spark to stop this.

Megatron narrowed his optics further, rubbing his chin in thought, before he nodded and said, "Alright, fine. I will stop with Starscream."

Soundwave sagged minimally in relief, and turned to go unshackle one of the Seekers when a massive hand grabbed him and threw him on the ground near the concrete slab where Starscream was watching with wide, fearful optics. He was dazed for a moment, and then his vision was filled with the angry, yet grinning faceplate of his leader.

"I said nothing about not touching you," Megatron growled, forcing a fist into his third's abdomen, "And if you try to shut me down with your telepathy, I'll murder your pathetic little _drones_."

The telepath hissed in pain from the hit, but it was nothing to the black wash of despair and fear he felt as Megatron lifted his cannon and placed it square on the centre of his cassette glass. He could feel the hum of the charge, and behind his visor, his optics widened in fear. Ravage and Ratbat had chosen to recharge in his chest compartments tonight. If Megatron went through with his threat, both would be extinguished. The needs of his family overrode the need to get away from this mad mech, and he stilled.

The grey warlord chuckled, and in a mocking soothing voice chided, "There there Soundwave, that wasn't hard. Now, for your lesson. I'll teach you how to obey your master and lord."

Starscream whimpered, and Megatron turned and shouted, "Shut up, you whore!"

Soundwave shrank back, inadvertently bringing Megatron's attention back to him. The madness in those crimson optics caused Soundwave to tremble slightly. He tried not to let it show, but he was thoroughly rattled. Everything felt upside-down. Where was his majestic, clear-minded, goal driven, inspiring leader? Where was the mech he had been loyal to for millennia? Had he truly morphed into this terrifying beast? A rapist with no care for the cause – this is what Megatron had become.

He felt a fool. A puppet on a string.

His musings were interrupted by a strong hand reaching down to his pelvic area and roughly squeezing his interface panel.

"Open," Megatron demanded, denta bared in a snarl.

Soundwave didn't know what to do.

But Megatron answered his own question for him, tearing his digits into the seam and ripping the metal of his interface panel off, causing a few spurts of energon to erupt from the connection point. Soundwave made a choked cry of pain before biting down on his glossa. He would try to fend off giving his leader the satisfaction of hearing his pain. His tanks churned as he watched Megatron take the interface panel and twist it into an odd shape before throwing it over his shoulder carelessly. He was further sickened by fingers brushing against his sore plating where it had been torn, wires hanging, and were then brought up to a grey mouth. And then, with an evil smirk, Megatron licked off the energon from his wound.

"How delicious you are Soundwave. Perhaps I should have started with you instead of Starscream," mocked Megatron, daring the telepath, who was bound by his threats and by fear, to retort.

Soundwave did not move or twitch, but his processor was whirring. He was in for a world of pain. He felt like an dolt. The idiocy of his blind loyalty haunting him with each thought. How stupid, how trusting. And he was now paying the price for it. He felt violated as heavy hands ran coarsely over his frame, scraping against his plating in a sick rendition of foreplay. He shuttered his optics tight, frame tensed, knowing there was nothing he could do to prepare for what was to come.

Megatron's putrid breath filled his olfactory sensor (had the mech gone after radioactive rust sticks again?) and his rough chuckle reverberated near his audial. "I bet you're going to be so tight, aren't you? Prude."

Soundwave wanted to lash out with his telepathy, to _prove_ who was more superior, but he couldn't bear to think if Megatron lashed back and killed his cassettes.

He could only thank Primus that his seals had already been broken. This would have been so much worse if he was untouched.

He could feel Megatron lining up. With a horrifying sense of clarity, Soundwave knew this is what Starscream felt.

And then the first harsh push in to his dry, unaroused, valve.

It was excruciating.

"Scream, Soundwave. I want to hear your pain, not just feel it," growled the grey, looming mass of insane mech above him.

Soundwave only bit down harder on his glossa, willing himself to ignore the pain, ignore it…

And then Megatron pulled out roughly, and with the same force, jerked his spike back in. He did it again. And again. And again.

For the navy plated telepath, the first searing bolts of pain stood out like bleeding energon on a black canvas. As Megatron began the steady, rough tempo with his hips, spike thrashing in and out of him and ripping past his abused sensors, every data byte of pain rolled into one large ache, pooling not only at the apex of his thighs, but in his processor as well as his sensors screamed in white hot pain. He curled his hands into the ground, willing for Megatron to climax and finish so he could be spared any more horror.

And then he felt something snap in his valve and heat rushed through it and coated his rubbed raw walls which Megatron was still thrusting into. It took a moment for Soundwave to realise what had happened.

A part of his valve lining had broken open as well as an energon line. And now energon was slicking the rape.

He had made no noise, but a wetness on his cheekplates alerted him to the fact that at some point, behind his visor and mask, he had begun to leak a few tears of coolant.

It felt like that spike was trying to cleave him in two, the stretch blindingly painful and his processor overwhelmed with the amounts of negative data. Megatron pressed down on him, and he could feel his whole body. Soundwave kept his optics shut. If he could save one sense in this ordeal, it would be his sight. The heavy panting echoed menacingly in his head. He writhed, trying to make Megatron climax. He wanted this over.

And the his gravelly low voice murmured to him, "This is all your fault, Soundwave. Making me think of you and your valve, it made me hot, made me want to have you. It's your fault, you wouldn't obey me."

Soundwave felt the tempting urge to scream in rage. It was not his fault! He would never had invited this!

But dark part of him whispered, a niggling thought in the back of his processor, '_You did. You could have left, ignored it. Your master has rights and you are but a slave. You should have left Starscream and his trine to suffer.'_

It was not right!

The dark doubt whispered, '_And is rape worse than what you have done? Plundered other's minds for the Decepticon cause? Killed?'_

Despair.

An obsidian hole enveloping him with cold arms.

He was dead inside.

And the world came back to him as Megatron bellowed out his release and hot, painful transfluid splattered into his raw and sore valve. He jerked, and only then, finally, did he break his silence and scream out in pain, the vodocoder in his mask not hiding the raw anguish in the sound.

Megatron was chuckling as he pulled out, shaking his spike for good measure, and said, "Use your telepathy on me, and I will find your nearest creation and kill it."

He left the room, not paying a glance to the Seekers and shut the doors behind him.

Soundwave finally opened his optics again, willing this to have been a nightmare.

The pain coursing through him and the searing stings in his valve told him otherwise. He glanced around, and saw that all three Seekers were looking at him. The emotions in their gazes were plainly obvious. In all three was hate and anguish. Thundercracker's was full of rage, directed at the tyrant that had just left. Skywarp's was fear and pity, and a type of empathy.

Starscream's was most spark wrenching of all. Guilt, hope, gratefulness, pain, and self-loathing all clashed in that gaze.

Soundwave tentatively reached out a mental link and whispered to the dejected Seeker, "_I'm sorry I did not believe you earlier."_

"_It doesn't matter now. What…what matters is that you came and tried to make a difference_," Starscream whispered back through the link, unable to speak because of the gag still holding his lipplates open.

Soundwave retreated, the dirty sensation of defilement weaving it's claws into his spark. He felt filthy. Useless.

More of a fool than ever.

But he used the rest of his strength to sit up, hissing from the sharp ache in his pelvic region, before slowly standing and lurching over to where the black and blue Seeker's were bound. Using a small tool, he picked the locks and set them free. Thundercracker instantly enveloped Skywarp in his arms as his lover and younger Seeker leaned into him and began to cry uncontrollably, but the sound becoming distorted because of the ripped wires in his throat. Thundercracker tried to comfort him, rubbing his wings gently – thanking Primus Megatron had not touched them – but knew this would not be healed like a dent. He held the teleporter close and watched as Soundwave's kneejoints shook, and then buckled and he fell.

Soundwave wanted to cry out in pain, but ignored it. He had to free Starscream first.

He crawled over in a herculean effort and used the same tool as before to free the tri-coloured Seeker from his chains before removing the gag with a gentle touch.

Starscream coughed, tears still streaming, and whispered hoarsely, "Thank you, Soundwave…I…am in your debt."

And then he did something quite unexpected and took his hand and squeezed, trying to provide him with some comfort.

Soundwave knew that he and Starscream had usually been at odds with each other. They _could_ work together, but their differing views on their leader caused their work relationship to be strained. Now, Soundwave could say he understood Starscream's vehemence and rage. He squeezed back. Something in him told him that this was not just one time that such an event had happened. He wanted to know.

"What happened?" he asked.

Starscream's optics had a dead look as he opened his mouth and began to explain, "Megatron was in a mood. He…took me down here to punish me…like he does…but he brought my trinemates in." He looked over to where Thundercracker was trying to calm down Skywarp, who was still distraught. "He bound us all and then…then made S-Skywarp suck him off. He was going to…to e-enter him too, but I b-b-begged him to take me instead. Thundercracker has n-not been touched at all. I'm glad he wasn't." The tone was wobbly, but it gave Soundwave the information he needed.

Searching crimson optics looked to him, guilt returning and mumbled brokenly, "I'm sorry, Soundwave. I'm s-s-sorry! I c-can't believe he would do that t-to you!"

Fresh tears erupted. From all of their faces as the events settled in and took their hold.

"Rape:…not…S-starscream's fault."

Soundwave felt his own voice wobble. But his resolve strengthened a thought he had since he had freed Starscream. They needed medical help. And he sure as pit was _**not**_ going to stay here. He was not going to stay here under the rule of a rapist of the innocents. While killing had been somewhat justified, there was nothing to justify this. Only that Megatron derived a sick sense of pleasure and power from it.

Turning to the youngest Seeker, Soundwave asked softly, "Skywarp: can warp?"

Skywarp looked at him tearfully, clutching onto Thundercracker like his life depended on it and said raspily, "Why?"

"Soundwave: Needs all cassettes."

"Why?" It was Thundercracker who asked this time as he brushed the tears off his lover's face and unbuckled the unsightly collar, tightening his hold to comfort.

"Medical attention: needed," Soundwave stated, shakily getting to his pedes once more, helping Starscream up as he did so. The tricoloured Seeker was so injured he could just barely stand, energon dripping off his frame and onto the floor.

Thundercracker frowned, "But we can just walk to the medbay. It's only a floor up."

Soundwave shook his helm slowly. He wanted them to understand. "Medical attention: Not Decepticon medic. Needed: Autobot medic."

Silence bloomed as each mech thought about the implications of that statement. Then, Starscream spoke up. "Do you mean…defect? Or just this one instance?"

"My choice: undecided. Priority: healing," the navy telepath muttered, half-turning away, becoming hyper aware of the fact that he had no interface panel. His creations were starting to be frantic. Ravage and Ratbat had just awoken, and now Ravage was trying to prevent Ratbat from realising what the implication of no interface panel meant. While grateful for his eldest creations flexibility in situations, they needed to get out of here now before Megatron really noticed they were missing.

Skywarp seemed to have calmed, and he asked quietly to clarify, "So…you want me to warp us to your quarters…and then…to the Autobot base?"

With a determined pulse in his spark and voice, Soundwave answered, "Affirmative."

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><p><strong>AN;** ***ducks thrown stones* I know! I'm sorry I had to do that to Wave, Star and Warp, but it's there for the essentials of PLOT. **

**A review would be lovely, however. Don't worry, there is no more rape for the rest of the story, just flashbacks of it. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: You know all my disclaimers. I don't own Transformers, never have and never will. I hope you like this chapter. Everything gets better from here on in. And a thank you for all my reviewers. **

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 2<strong>

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><p>Soundwave felt his pedes lightly touch the desert dirt. He looked up and sighed in relief.<p>

There in front of them was the _Ark_, gleaming it's dull orange in the haunting moonlight. He could hear behind him as Thundercracker mumbled something to Skywarp before taking the black Seeker in his arms to carry him. He sought his own reassurance by placing a hand over his chest, where behind the glass all six of his cassettes were curled up in an uneasy recharge. Starscream hobbled over to him and whispered, "It's odd."

Soundwave did not reply, wanting the Seeker to clarify.

And without fail, Starscream went on in a slightly wistful tone, "That I feel safer standing here than I ever did locked in my own quarters away from the world."

Soundwave couldn't really reply to that. He couldn't remember a time where he had felt truly safe and secure. And now he felt shame and humiliation. To be taken advantage of when he had all his abilities, to feel hurt from one he had glorified.

No, all he could feel was shame.

Starscream did not seem to mind his silence as he rasped out, "We should get moving. One of their sentry's should see us and raise the alarm. Surprised they haven't noticed yet."

The communications officer bowed his helm in acknowledgement, but felt dread seep into him. The painful ache in his groin area had not faded. In fact, it had only intensified. It did not help that his components were bared as his interface panel was no longer existent. It also did not help that there was a cold wind biting at their plating and slimy transfluid was still sliding past his sore sensors and seeping out of his valve. At least the Seeker's had the fortune to have their interface panels intact, even though in Starscream's case they were beaten to within an inch of their life.

They all moved forward, going as slow as possible. Starscream was still finding it hard to walk and his thrusters had been disabled earlier so he could not fly to aid him. And Soundwave was faring no better. It was slow going, but going nevertheless.

"Finally!" sighed an exasperated Thundercracker as four pairs of headlights came out of the _Ark_ and headed straight for their location. For the blue Seeker, it was a relief. Skywarp, who was exhausted from both inner turmoil and two large warps, had begun to shiver from both the cold and from what had been done to them.

Soundwave unknowingly began to shudder.

Although it had been habit among the Decepticon ranks to jest at how 'soft-sparked' the Autobots were, Soundwave felt a thrill of fear pass him. After all the things he had done, would they treat him with mercy? He doubted it. But this was his best shot. If only he could just get to Blaster before they decided what to do with him.

The rev of engines reached their audials and the little group stopped, waiting for the Autobot's to reach them. Before long, four Autobot's pulled up and transformed, revealing the forms of Ironhide, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Optimus Prime.

"Starscream, what are you and your trine doing here…" Optimus began, but as he stepped forward, his headlights shone on the four forms and he glimpsed their conditions. He instantly stepped back and the words he had been intending to say did not leave his lips, recoiling at the sight.

"Yeah, I think this is pretty self explanatory," Starscream spat bitterly, spreading his arms wide to display his grisly injuries, not knowing that he was also displaying the stains of energon and transfluid on his thighs.

The Prime could only stare in horror as his processor put the pieces together. Who had done this? He was about to ask this when he caught sight of Soundwave, who was turned side on as if to hide.

But it was futile as Optimus saw the torn off metal underneath his valve.

Ironhide and the twins had pointed their weapons at their perceived enemies, but now lowered them, expressions of horror slowly taking over their faceplates.

Optimus quickly turned and ordered, "Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, get Ratchet, Skyfire and Blaster. Once you have alerted them, stay at base. Until the Decepticon's are repaired, they are granted amnesty and no one is to harass them." The twins nodded, transforming quickly and speeding off into the night and back into the _Ark_.

There was silence after that one moment of action, and none of the mechs wanted to break it. They waited awkwardly together in the cool air. The knowledge of what events had taken place was more than enough to sustain that silence.

And then came the sound of a speeding shuttle engine roaring through the sky. Starscream snapped his gaze up, watching as Skyfire transformed and landed. The tricoloured Seeker was hoping to be somewhat dignified – regardless of his current state – at this meeting, but as he saw the concerned faceplates of his once friend, something inside him began to crumble, walls breaking down. New tears appeared on his faceplates and he couldn't explain why. His limbs acted of their own accord, and before he knew it, he was hobbling frantically towards Skyfire.

"Skyfire!" Starscream cried out, gathering what remained of his strength and launching himself at the larger mech, relief filling him as large, warm arms caught him.

Part of him berated him for looking so weak and pathetic in front of the Autobots, but it was overruled by the feeling of safety that he felt engulfed in Skyfire's arms.

"Star, wha-?" the shuttle asked in a confused tone, holding the Seeker tightly on pure instinct.

"Don't let me go. Safe…yes, safe," Starscream babbled, clutching onto white plating and pressing tighter.

Skyfire's concerned expression turned into one of dismay as he spied the energon and the damage inflicted on the usually pristine plating of the tricoloured Seeker. Looking up, he saw the state of Soundwave and the rest of Starscream's trine, correctly identifying some of the stains as transfluid, and everything clicked into place. "Oh Star," Skyfire mumbled to the distraught flier in his arms, "Oh Star, how did this happen?"

Starscream's reply was to whimper and curl into the warmth that Skyfire offered.

"It would be best if he stayed with you, Skyfire. You knew him best," Optimus said gravely.

The sound of another engine coming attracted their attention, and Ratchet sped up, letting Blaster out of his alt-mode before transforming.

Soundwave, who had been as silent as Skywarp or Thundercracker, spoke before anyone could get a word out.

"Code: F123RE747E, Blaster," he said, just loud enough to be heard by all.

Blaster had finished transforming and had looked around, bewildered at the scene, before he heard what Soundwave had said. His expression turned into one of joy and he asked excitedly of his counterpart, "Ya mean it Soundwave? Ya truly mean to use it?"

Soundwave nodded, not outwardly displaying any sign of his discomfort.

"Blaster?" Ratchet asked, now confused himself.

"It means Soundwave's defecting. It's the code I gave him and told him if he ever wanted to defect and meant it, he should use," Blaster said happily, stepping forward, arms outstretched as if to give Soundwave a hug, but was stopped by the navy mech flinching away from him. Blaster glanced around and took stock of the situation, seeing energon stains on Soundwave's legs in long streams from his thighs. And then a trickle of transfluid slid from Soundwave's valve, drawing Blaster's attention down to that region. The orange mech stared at the wounds to the navy mech's valve, before dragging his gaze to his once rival's visor.

"Who did this to you?" Blaster growled, anger flooding him as he registered just _why_ Soundwave could not cover his intimate parts.

Soundwave could not believe how Blaster had went from rival to ally in the space of a few seconds. And now the orange boom box was acting as if not a day had passed since they had broken their friendship and gone separate ways, that same concerned tone in his voice there now as it had been on that fateful day. That blue opticed gaze bored into him. And Soundwave skimmed his thoughts, finding rage for the perpetrator and protectiveness for him.

Protectiveness. Blaster…had…forgiven him…and the revelation broke down all his walls and made crumbs out of his resolve not to display any emotion whatsoever. He retracted his mask, vodocoder slipping out of the way.

And then in a low, broken whisper, he whispered, "Megatron."

Blaster stared at him in disbelief, shock plainly written on his face.

Ratchet growled and threw a wrench into the night in his sudden anger.

Ironhide sputtered as he heard the statement.

And Optimus Prime was the most outwardly horrified of them all. It was a sight to watch as the Matrix bearer drew himself up to his full height, anger colouring his tone as he said, "How dare he. How dare he abuse his soldiers like this!" Without knowing it, his hands clenched and shook in rage. "How dare Megatron violate others with such an act!"

"Optimus!" Ratchet barked, pointing to where Thundercracker was carrying Skywarp. The black and purple Seeker was cowering in fright from the angry tone Optimus had been using.

The large mech sighed, and released his fury at Megatron…for now. With great care, he moved to Skywarp and said gently, "Skywarp, I am sorry. No harm will come to you while here on the Autobot base."

Thundercracker stood warily as the Prime made his statement to his lover, but sensed the sincerity of the word. Skywarp must of too, for he nodded his helm once before nestling it back into Thundercracker's neck and whimpering softly. Optimus nodded gravely, moving back and looking expectantly to Ratchet, who by now had performed superficial scans on each Decepticon.

"Prime, we need to get them all back to base, I can't work on them here like this. And clear the hallways. I don't need my patients to be gawked at like animals in a zoo," snapped Ratchet, going into full medic mode as he transformed, holding his ambulance doors open invitingly for one of the injured mechs.

"C'mon, Wave. We'll fix ya up real good," Blaster coaxed softly, gesturing to Ratchet's open carriage.

Soundwave closed his mask back up, hiding his grimace as he transformed, knowing it was the only way he could get to the _Ark_. It added even more to his hurt, but he resolutely ignored it. Now was not the time to break down completely. Blaster caught him, and he couldn't help but flinch yet again. He cursed his altform for being so small, for being claustrophobic once hands held him to safely deposit him in the medic. The methodical shifting of gears told him Blaster was transforming too, and his proximity sensors told him the boom box had landed a foot away from him. It gave him an odd comfort, but it was an abrupt one. His processor could still not wrap around the fact that Blaster had accepted him back as a friend just like that. Without any of the hurts or the anger he had been expecting.

Vaguely, he heard the sounds of the rest of the mechs transforming, with Skyfire carrying Starscream in his hold and with Thundercracker carrying Skywarp, and they set out for the massive hunk or orange metal embedded deep in the earth.

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><p>Ratchet marched into his medbay, faceplate held in such a determined and set expression that all followed his orders.<p>

"Skyfire, put Starscream in ICU 1, Blaster, guide Soundwave to ICU 2," he ordered swiftly, not looking at those who he was directing, but pointing at the required rooms as he went for his tools and getting the required suppressants. He would fix this all on his own. True, it would have been better for First Aid to be there, but the fact that he and six others already knew of this mess…well, those were enough for now. He would not make the four Decepticons feel any more victimised if he could help it.

Grabbing a sedative, he went over to the two remaining Seekers with a slight apologetic look on his face.

"This will sound harsh, but I cannot attend to Skywarp until I have finished with Starscream and Soundwave. And I would rather be the only medic to work on you all," he said firmly, but went on, "However, if you want a sedative until I am done I will give it."

"Yes," Thundercracker responded back to the medic immediately. "'Warp needs it."

Ratchet shot him a warning look, before turning and asking Skywarp directly, "Would you like a sedative?"

The black Seeker nodded, looking at Ratchet with despairing round optics. The gaze reminded Ratchet of a scared sparkling.

His tone was milder as he said, "Alright. Thundercracker, please place him on that berth while I hook this up."

Thundercracker nodded and did as he was bid, depositing the younger Seeker gently on the padded surface and making him comfortable while Ratchet watched his actions. The blue flier couldn't care that he was being watched. Skywarp was his priority and he wanted to make his lover feel better.

Ratchet couldn't hide his little smirk at the touching scene, before he stepped forward and patched an IV line into the black Seeker's systems, feeding the sedative straight into them. While that was happening, he carefully gathered the ripped up wires, bunching them together with a large cable tie so they would not tangle around the mech's neck. And then with deft fingers, he cleaned the energon and the transfluid stains carefully from around the younger flier's neck and mouth. He felt Thundercracker's optics on him, but he did not stop until Skywarp's face was clean. The medic was rewarded by Skywarp's crimson optics flickering at him weakly in a surge of gratitude, before the sedative claimed the black flier and he fell into forced recharge.

"Thank you," Thundercracker said lowly.

Ratchet snorted lightly, "I'm a medic. It's my job. I need no thanks." He turned to leave to tend to the other damaged mechs but was halted by Thundercracker saying gruffly, "What you did was your job but how you did it says otherwise. So take my thanks before I slag you."

Ratchet chuckled without mirth, shaking his helm but deciding not to reply as he disappeared into ICU 1.

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><p>"Star, shh, shh, it's ok," Skyfire whispered desperately to the distraught mech clinging to him.<p>

He had tried to put the air commander down, but instead blue hands only clawed deeper into his plating so they would not let go. And now he was sitting in a large visitors chair with Starscream on his lap, trying to calm his friend, soothe him – but knowing that this would be a long road to recovery.

Ratchet opened the door, softly stepping in and taking stock of the situation.

"Starscream," the medic said gently, moving forward in such a way you would think he was approaching a wild animal, "I am sorry, but I need you on that berth to tend to you. You will be more sore otherwise."

The tricoloured Seeker briefly turned his tear-stained faceplates to Ratchet for a second before shaking his helm and clinging tighter to the shuttle. Ratchet sighed sadly. For Starscream to react like this, to have a complete personality turnaround, indicated that this was not a onetime instance of violation. No, this was a classical sign of ongoing, but perhaps infrequent, rapes. It was a good signal, however, that Starscream was allowing Skyfire to hold him and to be in contact. It was a vast difference to Soundwave, who had been flinching while inside his altmode involuntarily.

"Skyfire, safe, safe, safe, please don't let me go!"

Ratchet was brought out of his thoughts by Starscream's beg, directed at Skyfire, who looked half lost in the situation and half assuring. The shuttle gently ran his hand across Starscream's wings and hummed to him. Ratchet crept closer, discreetly passing another sedative to the large scientist and stepping back.

Skyfire nodded seriously, passing the sedative into the hand stroking Starscream's whip-abused wings, finding a line and injecting the self-inject sedative into Starscream's lines. The jet immediately slumped into him, fingers loosening their hold as the tranquiliser did it's work. Crimson optics dimmed and then shut off as all systems went into a relieved recharge.

"Good work," Ratchet nodded, helping the shuttle get the injured flier on the berth.

"I've never seen him like this," Skyfire whispered softly to the medic.

"He's damaged, inside and out. Physical can be healed, but mental? Not so easy. He'll need your guidance if he chooses to stay," replied Ratchet, hooking up an IV line to Starscream.

Skyfire looked morosely down at his old friend, "Something tells me he will. He's suffered for too long…I don't care what he's done…he's a good mech inside." And then the large white mech reached out a hand and gently stroked the side of Starscream's recharging faceplates. Ratchet barely concealed the smirk he was wanting to wear. He knew the shuttle felt something for Starscream.

"I'm going to go sedate Soundwave now. I have no idea how he's reacting. That damn mask and visor of his keeps me guessing. I think he's locking it all away," muttered the medic. "And you can stay here if you wish. He's going to be out of it for a while though."

Skyfire nodded as Ratchet left, stroking over Starscream's helm affectionately.

* * *

><p>Soundwave sat on the berth, facing away from Blaster.<p>

He felt filthy. Filthy filthy filthy piece of scrap. He could barely let his past friend touch him. He would stain Blaster's red and orange plating with his filth if he did.

And the shame.

And the ache.

Not to mention his cassettes were begging to be let out, to help him, to heal him, but he knew it would be no use. He was defiled. He could not call himself their creator, their protector if he could not even protect himself _and_ them. Using his telepathy – and with regret – he enveloped their processors with his own and forced them into a peaceful recharge. He wanted to prevent their suffering. He could not, _would not_ let them out until he was fixed.

"Soundwave? Talk to me, ya have been quiet since we got here," Blaster asked softly.

Oh how he was angry. The chance to have his friend back, and his friend comes back in pieces because of _Megatron?_ No. It was not fair on the both of them. It was not fair on Starscream and his trine either. It fragged Blaster right off. He knew that Megatron was a twisted fragger, but he thought Soundwave would be pretty safe because he was loyal and trusted.

Turns out he was wrong.

"Wave? C'mon, for me?"

Soundwave turned his helm and retracted his mask. His emotions spilled out in his melodic voice as he spoke.

"Shame. I am filthy. I am a fool, an inferior blind fool."

Blaster's spark broke and he said empathically, "No! Not blind, but _trusting_."

"My fault," whispered the telepath.

Blaster growled lowly, "No, don't ya ever think that, mech! No bot ever wants to be violated. I know you are feeling really unsure right now, but get one thing straight in your processor and don't forget it: This is not your fault. Ya did not invite it. He probably threatened ya life and the life of ya little guys if ya used your mental powers, right?" His optics searched Soundwave's visor imploringly, trying to make the mech see it was not his fault, it was something he could not have possibly controlled.

Soundwave nodded his helm hesitantly.

The door opened, revealing Ratchet with a sedative in hand.

"Soundwave, I'd like to put you under sedition until I have cleaned you up and finished your repairs," the medic said quietly, coming around to Soundwave's side of the berth, making sure not to look down at the navy mech's nonexistent panel.

Soundwave nodded again.

Once the sedative was administered and Soundwave was resting on the berth, Blaster bid Ratchet luck and a good night before leaving the medbay. In one night, a lot of things had changed. And so, he wasn't surprised by Optimus Prime waiting outside the bay.

With a gentle, yet firm tone, the Autobot leader said, "Blaster. We need to talk."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks to all reviewers, I'm glad you liked the set up! I'd love it if you reviewed again ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow, the response both here and on LJ was huge! I am **_**glowing**_** with the praise about my writing. And because I love all my reviewers so much, I got off my ass and did this. **

**You all know my disclaimers.**

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter three<strong>

* * *

><p>Blaster followed his leader in silence as they walked to the taller mech's office. Blaster had a fairly good idea what this was about, and he wanted to get this chat session over with quickly so he could get back to the medbay and stay near Soundwave in case he woke up alone. It wouldn't be fair to the navy telepath if he wasn't, since Skywarp had Thundercracker and Starscream had Skyfire.<p>

Optimus also stayed silent. It was night and most of his crew were in a sound recharge in their berths, and he had no desire to disturb them. They went into his office, Optimus going to sit behind his large desk and beckoning his communications officer to sit down in front of him.

"Now," sighed Optimus, "I know it's been an eventful night. But if I could have your co-operation, it would be good."

"Of course Prime. I expected this ya know," Blaster said mildly, smirking to ease his leader.

The red and blue mech nodded, leaning forward and saying directly, "There is no way of going a nice way about it. Why did you not tell us that you were friends with Soundwave? It is a rather important detail when signing up for the Autobots."

Blaster snorted good-naturedly, before saying, "Sir, I signed up after Mirage did. On my very first day I saw the minibots call him traitor and all that jazz, all cos he's a noble and wants to end the war, ya dig? And I knew Soundwave was a Decepticon. He split not long before I enlisted. To make sure I was treated fairly, I kinda left it out. Besides, we didn't keep in contact after our big friendship breakup. That code ya heard earlier? That was pretty much the last thing I said to him, and told him to only use it if he meant it."

"Ah. I understand your reasoning, but why not ask for confidentiality after you felt comfortable with the Autobots?" asked the larger mech.

Blaster shrugged, "The same sorta thing, that those who I would tell would call me a liar. And I tried to ignore it. It hurt so much that 'Wave chose the 'Con's. But he had a good reason at the time."

"Oh?" Optimus arched an optic ridge in question.

"Yeah. Ya see, he's originally from Kaon, while I was from Draygaz-"

"Draygaz? I've never heard of such a city," Optimus interrupted.

Blaster's smile turned bitter, before he said, "It was destroyed before you became Prime. Now we know it by the name the Senate called it. Slaughter City."

Optimus winced behind his mask and the grim expression was reflected in his optics. No one liked to talk about Slaughter City. He mentioned with his hand for Blaster to go on, and the red and yellow mech nodded.

"Anyways, 'Wave and I met in Blaster City. Right in the middle of the plain between Kaon and Draygaz. Where the music scene was _happening_, mech. And they had the best communications and music academy on Cybertron. I don't know if ya ever heard of it, it was called the _Frequency_ academy. And how we met and became friends is because they placed us as roommates on campus. We hit it off right from the start. I didn't care that he was a telepath. It was the start of a great friendship," Blaster's voice had turned wistful at that last part, staring off into the distance in remembrance as he talked about a friendship he had long buried and thought would never feel again.

"We stayed in Blaster City after we finished our courses in both comms and music. I was a DJ part time with Wave, and we both got jobs at international Cybertron comm. stations. We got an apartment together and it was great because we were the best mates and the apartment was just our little slice of heaven," the boom box continued, and then he smiled softly and said, "I was also there the day that Soundwave was told his spark had split itself for the first time. I helped him design Ravage, you know."

"So that's how that design spec got in our systems," murmured Optimus. Blaster chuckled.

"Well, I thought it would help. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, best mates we were. It was the greatest time. When Ravage came, it was so cool teaching him how to speak and use his pedes. He was really cute as a sparkling mini-cassette."

Blasters soft smile faded abruptly. "And then the senate began to basically separate Kaon and the badlands from the rest of the planet because of its socio-eco status, and Megatron came into power. And mech, Soundwave did not have a good upbringing in Kaon – no thanks to the political powers that were. His one remaining creator was so poor and had so little credits he could only find work as a drone. Only reason why he got into the academy with me is cos his creator's creator had enough money to clean him up enough so he could get a scholarship. And so ol' Megsy comes along with the dream of an equal Cybertron, and from the first speech I knew Soundwave was hooked."

"Did he ever encourage you to go with him at the rallies?" Optimus asked quietly, intent on hearing the end of this story.

Blaster nodded, "Oh hell yeah. But I didn't wanna. Loved DJ'ing too much to care about political crap"

"Oh…so what happened next?"

Blaster 's gaze moved to his lap.

"He got really excited at the idea of having a united and free Cybertron without the senate, but instead a series of bodies in power who would keep a check on each other. He really wanted what Megatron promised. It was about then he got his mask and vodocoder. I hated it. It was the first of many arguments about Megatron and his cause . And then the destruction of Praxus. I told him it was either he left or stayed. If he stayed, he could never go to Megatron again. He said he was leaving. That one moment, I knew I couldn't convince him to stay. So I gave him the code and said, '_If you ever want to come back to the right side, I'll welcome you back with open arms. But only if seriously_.' He only nodded, picked up Ravage, and left. I didn't see him until I was on the battlefield years later. He was already TIC by then."

Blaster concluded with a sad shake of his helm, "And it finally takes something like this. He has no more trust in Megatron, that's for sure, but he feels like getting ra-…violated was his fault."

Optimus hummed in thought, before saying, "I am satisfied with your explanation. And I have a task to assign you. Please, when Soundwave is better, take him in with you and your creations. The familiarity from all those years ago would be better for him than placing him in a room by himself."

Blaster nodded. He was going to do that anyway. Standing up, he asked, "Can I go back to the 'bay? I'll stay with Wave until he wakes up. And then I'll get his little guys and bring them to my quarters."

Optimus chuckled, "Those extra large quarters will come in handy for the dozen of you."

Blaster grinned at his leader, "Just make sure Red doesn't fritz when he see's Con cassette's waltzing down the hallways."

Optimus groaned, "Thank you for that slightly weird mental image, and I'll leave a comm. for Red Alert for when he onlines. You are dismissed."

* * *

><p>Ratchet wiped his hands on a rag, cleaning the energon off his hands. It had been a little annoying to fix Skywarp while Thundercracker was cuddled up to the black Seeker in comfort, but it had been manageable. Instead of a neck with torn out wires and a damaged voicebox, Skywarp's face and neck looked as fresh as the day that the parts had rolled off the assembly line. Ratchet looked in satisfaction at his work, but was worried. How far did Megatron go with the youngest Seeker? He had to find out.<p>

He manually undid the interface panel with a special medic's code so it would not alert the sleeping mech's processor, and was relieved to find no damage. Good. That was one less thing he had to worry about. While Skywarp had undoubtedly suffered trauma, he had not been violated in his valve, and would recover quicker than Starscream or Soundwave.

He cast a critical optic over Thundercracker, wondering if he should check him over as well, before casting the idea beside. As stoic as the blue Seeker seemed to be, there would be _some_ reaction or tell-tale indication of abuse. There was none.

Venting, Ratchet debated who to work on next. He decided on Soundwave. Without an interface panel, the mech would be more insecure. He had to get those systems fixed and re attached immediately.

And then after that, before he even thought of dropping into a nice long recharge, he had to fix Starscream, or else the Seeker may go insane from both memory and pain.

Walking into ICU 2, Ratchet prayed to Primus to give him the strength to not murder Megatron on sight next time he saw him.

* * *

><p>Blaster slipped into the medbay quite a while later after his talk with Optimus Prime. He decided to refuel and have a light recharge. He couldn't help Soundwave if he was useless because he hadn't taken care of himself. And Ratchet also needed the time to finish the repairs with great discretion.<p>

As he walked towards ICU 2, Ratchet, looking tired and haggard, stepped out of ICU 1.

"How are they all?" Blaster asked softly.

"Repaired physically. What that _fragger_ did to them…" Ratchet growled.

The red and yellow mech patted the medic on the shoulder in a placating gesture. "You're not the only one. I'm as fragged off as _pit_, but 'Wave needs me. Right now, I'm the one he trusts most out of the Autobots."

Ratchet could only nod tiredly, stumbling off to the spare berth in his office wall. As he did so, he murmured to Blaster, "Be careful. I've had to replace his valve. I was lucky I had enough replacements in stock. I still have spares. Had to use 'em on Starscream." Blaster nodded at the medic, shooing him off to rest. He was thankful that Ratchet had done such a thorough job (as per usual) and now wanted to make sure the telepath woke up with a friend at his side.

Opening the door, Blaster felt a pang of something go through him as he saw Soundwave on the berth. It reminded him when they had lived together as flatmates – for the heck of it, he would creep into Soundwave's room in the early morning and tickle him awake, leaving them in fits of laughter.

Oh yes, he had also forgotten one little detail when talking about how he had been friends with the (hopefully) ex-Decepticon TIC.

He was in love with his friend.

Moving into the room and drawing the visitor's chair closer to the berth, Blaster smiled bitterly. He didn't know how, when or why. But he knew that somewhere between Soundwave's departure and the _Ark's_ crash, he had fallen in love with his friend turned rival. He sat, leaning forward.

"I wish I could rewind and freeze. Maybe if I went with you, this wouldn't have happened. Or maybe we would have both been killed. My main machine, you are one unlucky bot," he whispered to the room. He laid a hand over his chest where his cassette's rested. Rewind and Eject were actually awake, although curled up within the compartment. His cassette's knew of course that he was in love with his split spark counterpart. He tried to tell them the truth as much as possible. Ramhorn and Steeljaw were deep in recharge. They had been tired from a day out in the mud with Hound and Trailbreaker.

Blaster dozed in and out of recharge as morning approached.

Then Soundwave's steady vent's hitched, his body tensing.

Blaster's focus zeroed on the navy frame, fearing that this was the beginning of a bad memory flux for the telepath.

It was.

Soundwave began to shift on the berth restlessly, little whimpers echoing out of his maskless mouth. Blaster stood, reaching for him, but not knowing what to do. What touch would drive him deeper into his flux and which would save him from it? Biting his bottom lip, Blaster hesitantly shook Soundwave's shoulder, and instantly regretted it.

The lash of mental power made his knee joints buckle and he gasped in pain.

There was pure, unadulterated rage in that attack. It was only the first blush, and it felt as if his insides were being turned inside out. His hands blindly searched and found Soundwave's hands. He squeezed them, optics frizzing with static, gritting his denta almost hard enough to crack them as he tried to fend off the telepathic attack.

"Wave! It's me!" he called out.

Instantly the pain stopped, and he sagged in relief. His optics adjusted and saw Soundwave sitting up, visor shining over brightly.

"Blaster?" Soundwave asked softly. As if he was an imposter.

With a wry grin, Blaster choked out, "Yeah, it's me main machine." Hopefully that would do the trick. That's what he used to call Soundwave all the time when they had shared an apartment.

Soundwave instantly jerked his hands out of Blaster's, muttering, "Shouldn't touch me…I'm…filthy, worthless. I hurt you."

Blaster sighed. "No, Wave. It's understandable, ya were in a flux. It's ok. Look, Ratchet did a really nice job on ya. Ya look real nice," he said, trying to turn the visored mechs attention from the fact that _yes_, he did hurt Blaster, but the boom box knew it was not intentional. He was relieved as Soundwave looked down at himself. Blaster frowned, belatedly registering what Soundwave said about touching him. Again, his spark sank. He kept silent for now – he could prove Soundwave wrong later. Instead, he watched as the stoic mech ran his hands tentatively over his replaced plating. Especially over the new interface panel, as if feeling it wasn't real.

"Your medic's work is really beyond compare," Soundwave said softly. He then winced as he felt Rumble give him a mental kick. His creations were awake again.

He saw Blaster nod.

Why wasn't he running away in horror? He was a Decepticon, and not only that, he was tainted. Why would Blaster, past friendship aside, stay?

"Yeah, the Hatchet's a gem, but I think we've got more pressing matters on our servo's. I think ya little guys are trying to get out." Blaster was no fool. If his hunch was correct, the cassetticons had been in there for too long. They needed energon and fresh air.

The navy mech hesitated.

"Listen, if you tell 'em to behave, mine will. They will look after each other if they go to my quarters. Plus, they will stop wanting to kick your chest glass open and will be able to get some fuel, sound good?" Blaster said in his best coaxing voice, leaning forward with his hand outstretched.

Maybe it was a step too far, or maybe it was just the right one.

Soundwave slowly nodded. He could not fail to see the logic in his counterpart's statements, and so he released his chest glass, releasing his six cassettes.

He ignored the babble from all his creations, controlling his body and trying not to flinch as Ratbat snuggled into his neck, seeking for comfort…

…_the hot breath, panting in his audial, the weight on his body, the pain…_

He winced. The others were staying well back, but Ratbat was apparently in youngling mode and was seeking comfort that Soundwave couldn't bring himself to give.

"Boss, this is crap!" screeched Frenzy. The rest of the statements were the same. A feeling of failure enveloped the navy telepath. He didn't realise more tears escaped from his visor until there was complete silence as every one of his creations stared at him in disbelief.

They had never seen him cry before.

"Cassettes: go with Blaster. Operation: behave and co-operate," he managed to murmur to them. Sure hands gently took Ratbat from his neck and cradled the youngest cassette in their hands. Soundwave couldn't even bring himself to look up as Blaster quietly directed his creations from his room. He didn't know where Blaster was taking them. There were some mentions of quarters, but where were those? But they left, Blaster casting him a look filled with empathy. It made him feel weak. He felt like a fool again. They left him there.

He wallowed in despair, more tears streaking down his faceplates.

He lost track of time, only knowing that his door opened again to reveal Blaster, sans cassettes – and he was still crying. But when he saw his long lost friend, his soft crying turned into spark breaking sobs. He curled into himself on the berth, shivers and shudders making their way up and down his frame as he hasped and sobbed. He saw Blaster get in front of him, arms held out in front. He approached slowly.

"Oh 'Wave," Blaster breathed. He wanted to cry with the mech. But he had to stay strong. He had to be the anchor Soundwave tied himself to. "I'm just going to get on the berth in front of ya and hold ya. If you don't want it, shake your helm."

Soundwave wanted to shake his helm. He _so_ wanted the comfort, but he couldn't let his tainted metal touch Blaster's. Nevertheless, he did not shake his helm. Slowly, Blaster laid down beside him and wrapped his arms around his heaving and shaking frame. He flinched away slightly, but because he was _seeing_ the red and yellow plating in front of him, it was better. He even curled into the arms, crying even harder.

Crying for the loss of his trust in something he had so strongly been loyal to.

The loss of his strength.

His superiority. He was now inferior.

The loss of identity. He felt like it was all ripped away.

Who was the mech who was left?

He didn't know. All he knew was that Blaster's arms felt so nice and comforting around him, making him calm a bit. Blaster would never hurt him. If he had to trust in one thing when all others had failed him, it was this. He pressed closer, listening to Blaster as the Autobot began to sing a soft lullaby to him. A lullaby that they had composed together when they were at _Frequency _Academy. It made him ache for those days. He had been so stupid.

The thoughts circled in his processor as he cried himself into recharge, aching, but listening to the sweet sound of the lullaby weaving it's melodic calm from Blaster's mouth and through to his body.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Whew…Was that angsty or what? Anyway, PLEASE review. I want to see what you think. And thank you to my reviewers so far. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: You all know my disclaimers. I'm glad you are all liking the development of the characters and the plot. This chapter will jump around a little bit, but hopefully it all makes sense. And another thanks to my wonderful reviewers.**

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 4<strong>

* * *

><p>Skywarp onlined slowly. In the back of his mind, something told him that he'd been having fluxes, but they had been stopped from lingering. He felt something warm around his middle and air wash over his neck and upper cockpit. Cracking his optics open, he turned slightly and saw Thundercracker next to him on the berth in recharge, his helm on his shoulder. Skywarp felt slightly uncomfortable with the proximity.<p>

He was also uncertain.

He didn't like the feeling.

He and TC had been going strong for a few years or so now, and it had been great. And now this…

With a sigh, Skywarp wondered if he would have the strength to kiss the blue Seeker again. The thought disgusted him. Megatron had used his mouth like a toy, just using him as a wet cavern as he thrust in and out before he overloaded. His tanks lurched as he remembered the spill of transfluid inside his mouth.

With a choking noise, he shifted and turned his helm over the side of the berth, losing what was remaining of his energon in his tanks. The only reason why he wasn't in stasis was the IV line slowly feeding energon into his lines. He was thankful for that at least. They had no such medical equipment on the _Nemesis_. Unfortunately, his actions jolted Thundercracker awake.

"Warp?" the older mech mumbled as he booted up, seeing the leftover energon from his lover's faceplates.

"TC-"

"Shh, I'll help you." Thundercracker's usually blunt and gruff voice was soft and gentle.

The teleporter whined. This was _not_ how life was supposed to go! The beginning of his internal rant was stopped by the blue flier leaning over him with a warm cloth he had procured from a basin in the back of the room. He could only be still as tender fingers wiped away the putrid smelling energon from his mouth.

"There we go," mumbled Thundercracker soothingly, raising his other hand to pat his lover's helm in assurance. It was a good thing that Skywarp was not flinching away.

"Thanks, TC," Skywarp said quietly. His pride told him to be ashamed, but he and TC had been with each other through thick and thin. There was no need to hide away from the mech he trusted most. That trust had never been displaced.

Thundercracker gave him a little smile, subspacing the cloth for later, just in case.

Looking into those warm crimson optics, Skywarp whined again, but he said, "I want to kiss you, but…he…his essence…"

The other mech shook his helm. "On your terms. I don't want to do anything until you are ready. And besides, I am _not_ thinking of that. Before you go into a sort of depression, let me tell you this: One, he has not tainted you. You are a victim, yes, but you are strong and will be able to put this behind you. And two, I love you. And loving means not only seeing the good things, it's about flaws and accepting them." The blue Seeker said this quickly. Just in case some Autobot came in and saw him being like this with Skywarp. He usually reserved this behaviour behind closed doors, and he wasn't sure what was acceptable to the Autobots in terms of public affection.

Skywarp's optics brightened and he smiled softly. "Took you all this time to say it and I've been saying it since we got together. I love you too, TC," Skywarp said with a teasing note in his voice.

Thundercracker was opening his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut when the Autobot medic entered the medbay.

"Oh, you are awake," Ratchet said tiredly to them. The amount of recharge that he got was as much as he dared with three highly volatile patients. A bit of energon and he'd be right. He had worked worse hours on Cybertron.

"Evidently," Skywarp said in a sing-song voice.

Ratchet saw the happy expression on the black Seeker's face and arched an optic ridge as he asked, "What's got you so happy?"

"Warp," TC warned.

"TC told me he loved me!" Skywarp giggled. Thundercracker stiffened and crossed his arms.

Ratchet ignored the aggressive response from the blue Seeker and smirked, "Well, it's good to see someone laughing. Your repairs are done, and Prime gave me a room for you both to go to until you both decide whether to defect or whether you wish to go back to the _Nemesis._"

"Really? Thought he'd just chuck us in the brig," rumbled Thundercracker, stepping forward to take the room card that the medic had pulled out and offered.

Ratchet's gaze turned hard. "Prime goes by his word. If you have amnesty, you have it. Or, if you are missing our dear brig, you are quite welcome to it."

Thundercracker smirked slightly. He had to give the medic credit. Both a miracle worker and carer, the white and red mech also had the biggest pair of ball bearings of anyone he had ever met. "Thanks," he accepted the card and turned back to his lover, who was gingerly getting off the berth. Footsteps followed him and he heard the medic say, "I believe your room is one where there is an energon dispenser. Feel free to consume as much as you need. You are not our enemies, but our guests. Whether that status remains is up to you both."

Both fliers nodded, twitching their wings in their version of a goodbye, before following the directions printed on the room card and going into their room.

* * *

><p>Ratchet shook his chevroned helm as the flier's left. Thundercracker's actions indicated that him saying those things out loud were not a norm for those on the <em>Nemesis.<em> But propaganda did have a habit on doing that to bots, he mused.

He was curious to the Trine's motivations for joining, but it could wait. He wanted to check in on Starscream and Skyfire first.

The image of the damage to Starscream's valve haunted him.

It was not just violated. It had been ripped and bloody and raw, sensors cracked and fritzing with pain. It wasn't until he had replaced it that energon finally stopped leaking. It really shocked him, but what really sucker-punched him was how _strong_ Starscream was. He was the most damaged of all of them, and had only collapsed when Skyfire had shown up. And _that_ took some ball bearings. To ignore the pain – while it wasn't healthy – just displayed Starscream's character at its best. Too stubborn to die. He placed those thoughts out of him mind entered the room.

The medic almost 'aww'ed at the sight.

Starscream was still in recharge, but was laying on Skyfire, face snuggled into the shuttle's neck while his limbs lay spread-eagled and free. And Skyfire's large hand was placed protectively over the middle of the joint where the wings met in root mode. Ratchet had worked on Starscream, and then placed him back on Skyfire. If he woke up and panicked, at least the larger mech would be able to pacify him quickly enough, given the sudden attachment the two had formed. As there was no indication of either mech waking soon, he decided to see what had happened with Soundwave and Blaster.

He moved to the next room, and his spark melted. Blaster was sitting up, the navy mech curled up in his arms and stroking over his back. Soundwave was just barely online, like he had just come out of recharge. It was also spark breaking, to see such a proud mech reduced to this. He stepped in, keeping a professional facade on. He could wait until he was in his quarters to scream out his rage at Megatron.

"Morning," he greeted, running a scan over Soundwave's frame. Good. Plating was regenerating nicely, the valve had been accepted by the body – physically, Soundwave was impeccable.

Mentally was another thing.

Soundwave jerked, and made to get out of Blaster's arms, and Blaster let him wiggle free. He would not make the telepath feel trapped.

"Ease, Soundwave. I am just here to tell you that there is nothing more I can do for you in my bay. And because you have indicated your wish to defer, you are being permitted to stay under Blaster's care for now. Is this agreeable to you?" Ratchet asked kindly. _Gentle, gentle_, he kept in the forefront in his processor. He had to display the better side of his temperament, rather than the wrench-throwing one he reserved especially for the Lamborghini twins.

Soundwave nodded, visor betraying nothing, though his lips twitched.

Blaster smiled at the medic. "That's great! It'll be just like we were living in our apartment again, eh 'Wave?"

Soundwave inclined his helm at his counterpart, although his spark ached. He could remember those times clearly. It seemed like a time of clarity while the rest of his life up until now had been one great big storm until the storm turned into glass and shattered into fragile pieces. With a sigh, he wondered what his creations would say to him. He had kept the bond, both telepathic and spark, closed to them. They would not know his torment, his sorrow, his rage. He would not let them know that he was tainted and could not touch them, because they craved every bit of attention that he would bestow on them.

His musings were halted when an audial splitting shriek rent the quiet air.

"Starscream!" called Ratchet in apprehension, optics widening, rushing out of the room.

Soundwave jerked, making as if to go and see the commotion, but was stopped by a gentle arm holding him back.

"Ya don't wanna see whatever it is, 'Wave. Let Starscream heal a bit first before ya go to him, ya got some things to deal with yourself," Blaster said gently. He felt relieved as Soundwave rested back into his touch. He was glad. His best friend accepting his touch again felt like a big step forward already. He pressed behind him and held him loosely, letting the telepath have full control.

Soundwave shuddered slightly. Blaster was right. He didn't want to see another broken mech.

It would only remind him of himself.

* * *

><p>Skyfire jolted awake, his audials ringing with the echo of a scream. Before his processor could even fully boot up, he subconsciously held the trembling body tighter to him. He looked down, optics calibrating, and saw that Starscream's optics were open, but they were so pale that they were almost white as he trashed about, letting another scream escape his vocaliser. Skyfire's tank roiled in dread.<p>

Starscream was having an 'awake' memory flux.

"Starscream!" the shuttle called out, gently shaking the writhing flier.

"NO! AAAHHHHHH! PLEASE NO, NOT THERE!"

The shrieked words made Skyfire's expression grimmer and his spark sink. He could estimate what Starscream's flux was about.

"Starscream, please, wake up, please, I'm here, you're safe. Like you said last night, you're safe with me," Skyfire leaned down to murmur in his audial, rocking the body back and forth, trying to control the wriggling body. He hummed, trying to pull Starscream's focus to something other than the flux so he could snap out of it.

The words and the humming seemed to do the trick, as the tri-coloured jet's optics darkened back to their usual scarlet red and his wild thrashing stopped. However, he was still trembling as he mumbled, "Skyfire? Is this real or is this the dream?"

"No, this is real," confirmed the shuttle, stroking slowly over the repaired wings.

Starscream sighed, resting his helm over warm chestplates, shivering with the aftershocks of his memory flux. It had seemed so real. He was glad that Skyfire was being so unselfish, not bringing up any of the past betrayals and hurts…just accepting him. That in itself made him feel secure.

Skyfire looked up, finally noticing Ratchet, who had come in armed with another sedative just in case. The medic lowered it, moving forward and saying softly, "Starscream, could you please turn to face me?"

Starscream did, a little bit of his usual fire returning to his optics as he replied, "What?"

Ratchet said, "If you feel comfortable with Skyfire, you can go with him into his quarters until your welds and nannites finish healing. There is nothing more I can do for you here. And then you can make a decision whether you will return to the _Nemesis_ or not pending your recovery." He said it succinctly, professionally, belying the fact that he would do his best to prevent Starscream and his trine from going back into the clutches of the insane warlord.

Starscream nodded stiffly, before saying in a voice almost too low to hear, "You have my thanks for repairing me."

"Welcome. Now Skyfire, get some energon into him, he needs it," Ratchet replied, internally pleased at the admission of gratitude.

* * *

><p>Soundwave leant heavily on Blaster as they made their slow trek to his companion's quarters. He had his mask over his face, but he wanted to sob out to his friend, "<em>Don't touch me, his touch will violate you too<em>." But he didn't. Blasters arm around his shoulders was comforting and he was loath to let that security leave him in the midst of his internal chaos.

Clearing his throat to break the awkward silence, Blaster said, "I didn't really explain everything to your cassettes, only that ya were really hurt and to be really…uh…careful around you and to let you have your space. They had energon, but huddled in one of the corners of the room. I invited them to one of the smaller berths, but Ravage was the only one who wanted to, so I gave them blankets instead. I'm glad he still remembers me from our days on Cybertron."

Soundwave made a non-committal noise at that. Only Ravage out of his creations knew of his past with the mech next to him, and it was likely the others would be suspicious of why they were staying with the other split-spark.

They made it to the door of Blaster's quarters, and Blaster typed the code and palmed the door sensor open. They stepped through, and were instantly cheerfully greeted by Blaster's symbionts.

"Hey Boss, hey Soundwave!" called Rewind, looking up from his morning energon. His greetings were echoed by Steeljaw, Ramhorn and Eject.

Soundwave's cassettes, however, were much more subdued, coming out of their corner and slowly approaching. Soundwave's spark twisted in guilt as he saw the lost expression on Ratbat's face. Steeling himself for contact, he cautiously held out his arm to his youngest. His spark then lightened slightly as the little purple flier chattered excitedly and flew towards him, hooking onto his chestplates and snuggling in, continuing to chatter and squeak in happiness.

Blaster smiled, slowly moving away and letting Soundwave greet his creations.

Ravage stayed wisely back, instead telepathically greeting his creator while his siblings moved forward. Buzzsaw and Laserbeak flew up to Soundwave's shoulders, one on each, while Frenzy and Rumble stood at the base of each leg, looking up at him with small smirks.

"Ya look nice and shiny, Boss," Rumble grinned up at the navy mech.

"Never seen you look so good," Frenzy chimed in with his own grin.

Blaster watched Soundwave's minute body language for any expression of panic or discomfort. At the first sign, he would take his friend to the next room to a berth and let him rest. So far, Soundwave looked like he was doing fine, although a little tense, but at least he was allowing some contact. The red mech wondered how long the other mech would allow the contact. The longer, the better.

"Autobot medic: superb," Soundwave acknowledged the comments, although he internally doubted the truth of the words. He had merely been restored to his normal, blocky self. Maybe his plating shone brighter, but there was nothing special.

"When are we goin' home?" asked the purple coloured cassette twin.

"Autobot base: now home," Soundwave answered Rumble with no particular inflection in his voice. Both Rumble and Frenzy looked about to protest when Laserbeak interjected quietly, "Wherever my creator goes, so do I. You are home."

That statement almost broke the telepath. The thought echoed into his mind from all of his creations, also with trickles of affection and – dare he admit it – love through their creator-creation bond. His vocaliser stuttered and he began to tremble. He tried to keep his body still, but the tremors crept into his limbs. His visor flashed in alarm as dark emotions roiled through him. He was undeserving of this trust, of love, why couldn't he just tell them that he was no longer fit for purpose, that he infected them? He was too weak to say it.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Frenzy asked in alarm, taken aback by his creator's demeanour. He knew something terrible had happened to Soundwave, but Blaster had been tight lipped about what. What could make their creator cry, like he did last night, and shake like a leaf tossed on the wind? And he was not the only one concerned. All of his siblings were.

"Sorry guys, I have to let Soundwave rest now," broke in Blaster, moving hurriedly towards the shaking mech, mentioning for the cassetticons to move. They did, and Blaster took Soundwave's arm and steered him towards the spare berthroom he had, shutting and bolting the door closed.

"What the frag?" Rumble swore, slightly angry. Who was this Autobot to simply take charge of his creator? And what was with this slag about staying here with the Autobots? They had been Decepticons all their lives and the concept was foreign.

"Do not worry, he is in capable hands," Ravage spoke, slinking back towards their corner.

"Rav, c'mon, until last night, Blaster was our enemy, and you go, 'he's in capable hands?' Are ya missing a few bolts?" Frenzy chimed in incredulously, standing cross-armed by his twin.

Ravage growled, "It is not my place to explain. It is Blaster's."

"You know, you don't have to go in that corner. The couch is just fine. In fact, _Softa Chairs Co_ is one of the best manufacturers of couches in America, while the blankets you are using are from a dummy company in China and are not that high a quality," Rewind said from the large couch.

Ratbat moved forward like he was going to go, but then looked uncertainly towards his co-creations.

"What's it to ya?" Frenzy asked defensively. Buzzsaw and Laserbeak had perched atop a bookshelf filled with knickknacks and music files and watched serenely, seemingly content.

Rewind shrugged. "We have nothing against you. In battles we fight against you because it is battle. But if Soundwave is defecting, then come on up here. We are about to watch one of our morning shows. The A-Team. Did you know that it's about these men on the run from authorities who go around and solve crimes while on the run? It's fascinating, human entertainment. Have you guys ever seen it?" he babbled happily, not noticing the dour looks on the other cassettes faces.

"Rewind here is trying to score some brownie points. Come here and watch. We won't hit you with a bat or give you a foul ball or anythin'," said Eject, getting the remote and turning the large TV on.

The ex-Decepticon cassettes exchanged wary looks. They came to a simultaneous agreement. Ratbat flew to the couch first, closely followed by the condor twins, while Rumble and Frenzy scrambled up the ladder at the side of the couch. Ravage followed at a more sedate pace, gracefully leaping up and letting Ratbat snuggle into him.

Steeljaw and Ramhorn nodded at them, but mostly ignored them as the show began.

"You're right, this is more comfy. You guys have bigger quarters than we did," muttered Rumble half-consciously.

"Really? Was space that deficient on the _Nemesis?_" Rewind asked curiously.

Rumble shrugged and answered the question a little reluctantly, "Don't know. But we only have one room with a berth and music player. Not a living room with two berth rooms."

"Oh. Well…if you are going to live here, don't worry. The berthrooms have more than enough room for you as well as Soundwave," informed Rewind politely, giving them all a small smile.

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile the above events were happening<em>…

Quickly entering the room, Blaster sat Soundwave on the berth, kneeling in front of the navy mech so he was in full view.

"What happened there, 'Wave? Would you mind telling me?" Blaster asked gently, giving Soundwave an out if he didn't want to answer, not wanting to break the fragile trust between them.

Soundwave hugged himself, looking away from Blaster in shame. He knew he didn't have to answer, but…but maybe Blaster would have a viable solution or piece of advice. He retracted his mask, giving a few shaky intakes to steady himself. He willed himself not to cry. He had done enough of that last night.

"They sent their…love…through the bond. I do not understand that they can still look up to me after seeing me broken…last night," he said hesitantly. The words struggled to come out, but they eventually did. He had rarely talked so candidly about his feelings, but Blaster could be the only exception. His companion had proven himself well thus far, and so he would continue to disclose. He went on, "I feel dirty, Blaster. I am not sure if…if you can understand…but I feel undeserving and soiled. Their sparks are innocent, regardless of their…previous actions."

Blaster gave him a small, melancholy smile. "No, ya are right, I don't understand. But I will be here for ya. Friends until the end, right?"

Soundwave slowly turned his helm back to meet Blaster's gaze. There was openness and honesty. If Soundwave could say with surety one concrete thing about Blaster, it was that his optics never lied. They might hide the truth, but they never lied. He nodded in reply to that statement.

"Hey 'Wave? I know ya feel like…that ex-leader of yours has…uh…broken you, but you're wrong about that. If he had broken ya, ya would have not let me in at all. Ya wouldn't have protected ya family. Ya would have not let your creations touch ya. Ya wouldn't have had the courage to defect," Blaster murmured, listing off the reasons and injecting his tone with as much finality and encouragement as he could. The sooner Soundwave accepted this, the more further down he would be on the road to recovery.

Something in Blaster's words dawned on Soundwave. He felt a little better. Blaster was right. If Megatron had truly broken him, he could have been horribly inferior and would have been subservient to each whim of the grey mech after the…event. No, he had left. He had…done something about it.

He wasn't broken.

Perhaps a bit twisted and bent, but not broken.

And the fractured feeling he had carried with him closed and healed the smallest fraction. It was small, but it was a step forward nevertheless.

Something must have shown in the part of his face exposed, for Blaster hummed softly and said, "See? Find a positive in the negative, and we'll be right. And I think ya deserve each bit of love and devotion that ya little guys send your way."

Soundwave nodded again, and then a troubling thought crossed his processor. "They need to be told of the circumstances." Worry plagued him again, but now he was too tired by his tumultuous emotions to fully put energy into it.

Blaster sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and said, "I'll do it. And that way I can tell them about our friendship at the same time while ya rest." He pulled a cube of energon out of subspace, handing it to the ex-Decepticon and standing up while giving another small smile. "Rest for a little bit. I'll be here when ya boot up again."

Soundwave nodded, downing the energon and letting the embrace of emotional exhaustion take him into deep recharge as the red and yellow frame walked out of his room.

* * *

><p>Blaster sighed, closing the doors with a soft click and leaning his helm against it. Telling Soundwave's creations was going to be troublesome.<p>

Striding down the short hallway and coming out into the living room, sunlight lit by a few windows, he followed his own advice and looked at a positive. He was lucky to have such quarters. For a moment, he looked upon the surprising tranquil scene of both his and Soundwave's creations watching the A-Team. There was a gap between their two groups, but the fact they were even on the same couch was a victory. He sighed again. Although he did not regret it, the newly given responsibilities were going to take their toll. He cleared his vocaliser to catch their attention, and said, "Guys…we need to talk.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope you liked that. I had to have Soundwave accept the fact that he's not broken, and that in some ways he is strong. PLEASE REVIEW! I want to see what you think of the behaviours exhibited. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here we go with more angst, more explanation and more hurt and comfort. You all know that I do not own Transformers. Thank you for all the reviews, and especially to an anonymous one who pointed out I had Starscream's optics as blue, not red in the last chapter. Here we go again!**

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 5<strong>

* * *

><p>Blaster looked at the ten upturned faces, waiting for him to explain. They had rearranged their positions so that Blaster was on the couch and all the cassettes were on the floor. That way it could be easier to gauge their reactions to what he was going to say.<p>

With a sombre look on his faceplates he began, "Ravage and my cassettes are going to know the first part of this explanation, so this is mainly for your benefit." He looked at Rumble, Frenzy, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ratbat as he spoke. "It's going to basically tell you why Soundwave is going to be staying here as an Autobot. And here in my quarters."

He paused, quickly taking in the slightly suspicious expressions on Rumble and Frenzy's faces before he went on.

"Ya see…Soundwave and I…we used to be best friends. We even lived together and DJ'ed together," he said.

"What?" the twins cried out in unison, while the condor twins clicked their beaks in surprise and Ratbat squeaked in confusion.

"Shh," snapped Ravage, breaking his usual silence. "Let him explain."

"Thanks Ravage. Now…this was way before you all were created, way before the war…" He told the same thing he had told Optimus Prime, smiling slightly at the shocked looks Soundwave's cassettes shot at Ravage when they found out that Ravage had known Blaster, that his design had been contributed to by someone who had been an enemy. Ravage merely blinked his optics at his siblings, before turning attentively back to Blaster. He had no need to explain himself.

Blaster finished the tale, and was instantly asked by Frenzy, "Why didja give him the code? Ya had no way of knowing if he would ever defect."

Looking kindly on the red and black twin, Blaster answered, "I hoped. I knew Soundwave was a decent mech. So I took a chance. Ya are right, I had no idea, but I always thought to be better safe than sorry. "

"So why are we here? What happened to our dad? He feels…wrong…in here," said Ratbat softly, placing a hand over his chest.

The red and yellow mech almost melted at that, while pangs of sorrow filled his spark, as he knew the next part would not be easy, and would most likely get yells out of Frenzy and Rumble, and sympathetic looks from his own creations.

"Ratbat…have your interface systems come online yet?" Blaster asked softly.

He held up a hand to silence the likely protests of the cassette twins, watching as Ratbat shook his bat-like head and said, "No…dad told me another year and then I would stop reverting to youngling mode, and then another year before they would some online. Why?"

"Because what happened to your creator has to do with interface systems. You do know about-?" Blaster was relieved by Ratbat nodding. Good. It would have been beyond awkward to have to have the 'talk' with Soundwave's youngest before such horrifying news. Steeling himself for the inevitable and heaving another sigh, Blaster spoke again.

"Well, Soundwave is staying with me because I am to help him recover. You see, early last night, your creator was…assaulted..er…sexually, by…by Megatron," Blaster said, voice quieting toward the end as if that would soften the blow.

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw cawed in outrage, hissing, "How dare he!"

Ratbat seemed shell-shocked and terrified. Blaster knew it was because he realised he had been in Soundwave's chest compartment at the time of the assault.

As predicted, Rumble and Frenzy yelled, "What? That son of a glitch!" His cassettes were also giving him empathic looks, giving him some comfort over the bond. They knew how much he liked Soundwave. He gave his creations soft smiles, before turning his attention back to the ex-Decepticon cassettes.

They looked to him. The looks on their faces were spark-breaking.

Clearing his vocaliser, Blaster leant closer, offering his arms and comfort to anyone who needed it. After a moment of hesitation, Ratbat flew into his arms and snuggled in, small tears welling up in his optics. Rumble and Frenzy also climbed up, resting on his lap, still shell-shocked. The knowledge that their creator had been violated in such a way made their sparks ache in sympathetic agony for their father. Blaster gently comforted them, saying to them, "He came here to get better. And I'm the only one here on base who knows him well enough to take care of him. So I hope you guys don't mind it is all."

"Whatever it is to get the Boss up and running again," Rumble said, finality in his tone. It was echoed in the determined faces of the rest of Soundwave's creations.

"I'll try," Blaster promised.

* * *

><p>Prowl and Jazz entered their CO's office, having been called there as soon as they had finished their morning energon. They stood to attention, waiting for Optimus to finish with a datapad he had been reading.<p>

Optimus placed Starscream's medical report down on the desk, looking up and saying, "At ease."

Both black and white's relaxed, Jazz more than Prowl.

"What's up Boss-bot?" Jazz asked, trademark grin on his face.

Folding his hands over each other and adopting a sombre tone, Optimus decided to be blunt with his officers. "As of last night, we have been joined by Soundwave in the ranks and we have also granted asylum to Starscream and his trine. They have all undergone trauma of the worst kind, having been assaulted by Megatron."

"Assaulted?" Prowl asked steadily.

"Raped," Optimus supplied.

Jazz's grin dropped and Prowl's doorwings stiffened. Optimus looked sympathetically at his SIC and said, "I know this may be hard for you to see, Prowl, but I need you to read Ratchet's med reports on each. Jazz, I need you to tell the crew, get them used to the fact and read between the social lines."

Jazz looked worriedly at his mate. This event hit a little too close to home in one respect.

The Praxian caught the look and said, "I will be efficient as always. The Cloudstrike debacle is long past."

"But if you are having trouble, please let someone know," Optimus said pointedly at Prowl, who nodded in reply.

"Who're the mechs stayin' with?" asked Jazz.

"Soundwave with Blaster, while Skyfire has set himself to the task or helping Starscream. Skywarp and Thundercracker are in their own room, I think they can be trusted for the next few days," replied Optimus.

"I wish them luck," Prowl said softly, doorwings still held still.

"As do I. Dismissed."

The tactician and the saboteur exited. They walked a few steps before Prowl stumbled slightly, glad when Jazz caught him.

"Ya sure ya're gonna be ok, babe?" Jazz asked, steadying his mate.

Prowl nodded. "What the Decepticons have gone through is worse than I have ever gone through," he replied quietly.

"Abuse is abuse," Jazz said cryptically, leaning into the Praxian and offering his comfort. Wrapping his arms around the visored mech, Prowl sighed and said, "I know. It's why I am glad I have you."

* * *

><p>Starscream sat on Skyfire's huge berth, sipping his energon slowly. His body shook every now and then, but that was fine. It was better than all out bawling. The Seeker could feel the gaze of his oldest friend on him, and almost shied away from the non-judgmental tone of it. Everything that the shuttle had done for him so far had been so giving, so unselfish, and it made the jet feel like the biggest slagger because of his past actions. Not to mentions the shame and disgust from Skyfire knowing the dreadful secret he had been hiding.<p>

To break the awkward silence, he mumbled, "Energon's good."

Skyfire, who was sitting in a chair opposite Starscream, smirked and said, "Always is."

Starscream shifted a little uncomfortably.

With a sigh, and knowing this was going to be awkward and uncomfortable either way, Skyfire leaned forward, optics imploring, and asked, "Please Starscream. Tell me when this started. Tell me why you stay when you get hurt like this."

Starscream glowered at him at that last part, but he placed his energon cube own and hugged his knees to himself. The gesture made Skyfire's optics sadden.

"I stayed…to plot, to deceive, to protect my trines. Only last night did he try and hurt my trine. I stay to ruin his plans. I stayed there, knowing every beating and every…every rape…would be protecting my fliers. So I did not stay because I liked Megatron in any way. I did not stay because of any grandiose visions that we are going to win this war. I stayed to be a fool and protect all that I thought mattered," Starscream whispered, coolant tears welling up again in his optics and trickling down his grey faceplates.

"Oh Star," Skyfire said sadly, feeling like he had been punched in the gut. Starscream really was the good mech he had been all those millennia ago.

"And for your information…the…a-abuse began before we left Cybertron…not long after I became the Decepticon second in command," Starscream said heatedly, revulsion of his weakness boiling inside of him like black tar, clogging him.

Skyfire winced, getting off his chair and kneeling before the crying, trembling flier, holding his arms out once more, offering his wordless comfort.

"I'm sorry, Starscream," the larger mech whispered.

"I'm sorry too…for hurting you when I should have just-"

"Shh," Skyfire shushed him gently. "None of that. It's in the past. It's all about you and healing now."

And with gratitude glowing in his deep scarlet optics, Starscream leaned into Skyfire's chest, feeling those warm arms embrace him and making him safe and secure once more. A crawling feeling made itself known, of being unworthy of Skyfire's care, of being disgusting and tainted with the dark essence of the Decepticon warlord, but the tricoloured flier ignored it. If he was to heal, it was not allowed to get the best of him. But nor could he bury it. He continued to sob into the warm chestplates, crying for his lost innocence, for Skywarp, for Soundwave, and for the possible torture of the conehead trine back on the _Nemesis_.

* * *

><p>With a low growl, Megatron asked, "Where is Starscream and his fragged trine?" He directed this at Hook and at Ramjet, whom he called before him.<p>

"He did not come to the medbay last night, my lord, and I have seen nor hide or thrusters of him or his trine since yesterday afternoon," Hook answered calmly in the raging storm of his leader's anger.

With a nervous tilt in his voice, Ramjet said, "He did not come to our quarters like he usually does in the morning to give us our duties. And I checked the trines quarters, and it seems to have been cleared of possessions. Sir," he added hastily.

Megatron growled again.

"Soundwave does not appear to be on board either, sir. And his cassettes have disappeared as well," Hook spoke up again, still calm.

"Well then, FIND THEM!" Megatron bellowed. With his SIC and TIC currently missing, these two held the highest authority. The two mechs bowed and left the throne room swiftly, but not before the warlord gave the Seeker's retreating backside a leer. The doors shut, and he yelled out in fury again. How dare they leave! He was merciful to them, not killing them when he should have. They _all_ should have been in the medbay and ready for duty once more.

Red optics glowing fiendishly bright, Megatron realised why Starscream had not simply come back to work like usual. He had involved his trine and Soundwave as well.

"Pfft...prude," grumbled the grey gunformer. Soundwave was probably the main piece in this missing jigsaw puzzle. He had thought the telepath was loyal. To find out he was wrong irked him.

"When they get back, no mercy shall be shown!" Megatron cried out furiously to the room, and inside his spark he made it a promise.

* * *

><p>Soundwave twitched and booted up. He was met with a light grey ceiling and a soft berth.<p>

One thing he was thankful for was that he had no fluxes in his brief recharge. All he could remember was blackness and panting. And that in itself was not as terrifying as the actual memory. Sitting up, he gingerly parted his legs slightly and opened his new interface panel. There was something he wanted to see. The panel glided back effortlessly, revealing his components. His spike was in its housing, and his valve was dry in its normal, unaroused state. With slightly trembling fingers, he reached down and felt along the opening.

It was new. Brand new and replaced.

Conflicting emotions assailed him.

He felt relief and joy. Although the feeling of being violated was still prominent, he felt so relieved that no evidence in his valve remained of the torture he had gone through. However, he still felt dirty and defiled. Megatron had used his hands on him, his body on him, his spike within, valve replacement or no. And he wasn't sure if that feeling would ever go.

With a sudden stab of revulsion at himself, Soundwave took his digits away and closed his panel again. The dirty feeling was overtaking him again. He would never be worthy to take a lover again.

"Wave?" Blaster's voice came behind the closed door, "Can I come in?"

Soundwave was silent for a few moments to compose himself before he croaked, "Yes."

Blaster peeked his helm around the door, seeing Soundwave's state and closing it firmly before immediately going over to the trembling mech. "Wave?" he questioned again.

"Cassettes…sufficiently informed?" the telepath asked of his friend. That was of more importance right now.

Blaster gave him a tiny smile and said, "Yeah. They took it like true troopers. They're willing to help and do anything – and let me do anything to help ya. They are less suspicious now. My little guys are also helping them to settle in."

That news made him relax slightly, but he hugged himself, insecurity washing over him. Could he explain to Blaster? He wasn't sure. But the navy tapedeck didn't realise that his fingers were scratching at his plating as if to rid himself of all stains, of all bad memories. Being as emotionally perceptive as he was, Blaster grimaced at the actions and reached over to gently take Soundwave's hands.

"Would ya like to go to the washracks? Might relax ya…make ya feel better," suggested Blaster. And when he saw Soundwave perk up with interest, he knew he had hit it right on the money.

"I would like that very much…if…you would come with me?" Soundwave asked tentatively. It had been an old habit on Cybertron when they had lived together, as every now and then they would need help to get their back plating and would have the occasional shower with each other to get those hard to reach spots. But now he was uncertain. He had been more uncertain in one day than he had ever been in his lifecycle. Hope filled him as Blaster grinned.

"Ya know, I'd be happy to," Blaster replied.

Soundwave nodded, slowly rising from the berth and allowing Blaster to lead him.

"You know, the best thing about having these quarters is not the extra room," Blaster said as they walked out of the room, "It's having a private washrack."

And then the third door in the hall, which Soundwave had taken to be a storage closet, was actually the entrance to a large washrack. Blaster opened it, and watched as Soundwave slowly walked into the room. The visored mech was slightly speechless. There was a tub big enough to fit he, Blaster and all their cassettes easily, and a large shower space with two showerheads. One was about normal mech height while the other was unmistakably the height for the cassettes. Hanging off to the side was a large shower curtain, comically printed with the Autobot symbol.

"Cool, huh?" Blaster asked. Hopefully it would distract Soundwave somewhat for a little while.

Soundwave turned and looked in the mirror and nearly started in shock. No wonder Frenzy and Rumble had said he looked good. Never had he been so polished! But the look in his visor was sad and a little agonised. On the flipside, no wonder Blaster was being so careful with him.

"You know, if ya wanna start alone, it's cool. You can just let me know when you need me," Blaster offered.

Soundwave exvented in gratitude. Good. The uncomfortable prickly feeling had begun to come back. He could hide it if Blaster wasn't right next to him. He nodded, and Blaster went over to the showerhead, adjusting the temperature on the panel next to it before turning to the blue tapedeck and saying, "I think that's how ya like your temperature, if I'm not wrong."

Walking closer, Soundwave looked and was surprised that Blaster had remembered that he liked his showers on the cooler side compared to most bots. He looked to Blaster and said, "I cannot believe you remembered. Thank you."

"Aw, it's nothing. I just have a good memory bank is all," replied Blaster lightly. He stepped back, and pulled the shower curtain closed, giving Soundwave some privacy.

Soundwave sighed, turning on the tap for the water. Contrary to popular belief, Cybertronian's could wash with water, as long as they weren't left in water for too long a period of time. Only then would they rust. The initial rush was cold, but then warmed to the temperature that Blaster had set it to. He sighed again, this time in contentment. The touch of the water on his metal skin felt good, soothing. He leant into the stream, letting it flow down his helm and neck, across his back and chest, and down to the drains on the floor. The warmth enveloped him like Blaster's arms had last night when he had held him as he cried.

He grabbed a tube of solvent from the holder in the wall, noting that it was the same compound that Blaster had liked to use when they had shared their apartment. The familiarity of it made him smirk slightly. Lathering it up in his hands, he methodically worked his way from his neck to his arms, before sliding his palms over his chest and over the special hardened glass of his cassette compartment.

With a frown, his hands passed over the Decepticon symbol. Soundwave vowed that as soon as he could, he was going to get rid of the sign. It held no meaning for him anymore. He continued to lather up green bubbles over his chest, rubbing away some of the tenseness that had settled there.

He was doing fine until he got to his lower abdomen.

'_The touches, imitating a sick rendition of foreplay…a hand, brutally ripping off his codpiece…'_

Soundwave gasped, a phantom ache exploding from that point. He shook his helm, trying to concentrate at the task at hand, but his hands were shaking again. A bolt of frustration consumed him. Would this ever end? But then emotional anguish took over from the frustration, and he scrubbed at the buttons on his hips, on his new panel furiously in an attempt to wash the remembrance of Megatron's hands on him.

He let out a sob unwillingly, throwing down the rag he's been using then to scrub the solvent in and plunking himself on the floor, curling in on himself. Without a doubt, he knew that Blaster would come and see him like this again.

He was proven right when Blaster opened up the curtain upon hearing his sob, and gazed down at the huddled form. The mostly red mech said nothing, but frowned, and gently climbed in, sitting alongside the other mech and sliding an arm around him.

Soundwave unconsiously leaned in.

"You'll be ok, Wave. It might feel like forever, but I'm sure of it. You're gonna be even better than before, Wave," Blaster soothed.

Soundwave only nodded. They _should _have been empty words.

But from Blaster, they weren't.

Blaster whispered, "You want to stand up? I'll finish cleaning you up if you want, and then we can go and do whatever you want."

"Even go outside?" Soundwave asked. Fresh air sounded like a fantastic idea right now. Maybe he would feel better, maybe the sensation of violation would lessen if he was not in any confines.

"Sure thing." Inside,Blaster was so very glad that Soundwave had proved his own autonomy in making that decision.

Nodding again, he made to move up, Blaster helping him and settling under the stream of warm water once more. He expected himself to flinch, but was pleasantly surprised by the fact that Blaster's hands with the soft rag rubbing efficiently over his back and legs had virtually no negative effect at all. Of course, there was the slight feeling of being weak, but Blaster had _offered_, not demanded, meaning that Blaster had thought him competent enough to do it but was just doing it to ease his feelings. He relaxed a little, grabbing another washcloth and applying it to his front again, washing the solvent off. This felt…normal, he guessed.

Well, as normal as it could be when he had been raped and violated.

Blaster stood, looking at him to check how he was, before turning the taps off and saying with satisfaction, "There ya go. Nice and clean."

Soundwave gave his thanks, allowing a small quirking of his lips in gratitude. Blaster winked at him, stepping out and grabbing two large, Transformer sized towels. Soundwave dried himself, not lingering over the task – he now held a mounting excitement for getting out of the quarters and simply being free outside. He turned to Blaster, who had finished drying himself off, and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

As Blaster looked at him, Soundwave intoned softly, "Blaster, I thank you. You have been incredibly giving and accepting of me in such a short time. I am not sure how I will ever repay you."

Something indescribable flashed in the boom box's optics, before his usual warm smile graced his face.

"I told you before, 'Wave. Friends until the end. And friends do what they can for each other," Blaster replied, spark warming at the expression of gratitude.

They looked at each other in the silence, their gazes containing more than what they could say.

"Well, you want to go outside? Let's go then!" Blaster said cheerfully, walking out of the room. Soundwave followed, feeling his spark heal just that little bit more.

* * *

><p>Soundwave knew he had been right to pick this. Oh how he could forget that such atrocious actions could happen to him, especially when he was almost literally on top of the world. It felt like the violation had been some vivid dream in comparison to this. He and Blaster were on the top of the dormant volcano, looking out over the land and feeling a gentle breeze play along their plating.<p>

Maybe it was the stark contrast from being so enclosed in the _Nemesis_, far below the ocean, but never had he felt so free.

"I love coming up here. Especially at sunrise and sunset. It's beautiful to watch the dawn and eve of the day. It really makes you think. Hey, remember old Windbag? The minibot that used to spout poetry? I bet he'd be inspired by this sort of thing. Mech, he was a lousy circuit board instructor," mused Blaster, looking briefly at Soundwave.

"He certainly lived up to his designation," Soundwave answered, although he remembered very vividly the droning voice and the small stature.

Blaster chuckled, "Main machine, that's an understatement."

With the little bit of his confidence that he had found, Soundwave offered, "I have never seen a sunrise or sunset personally while on Earth. That is, stopped to just admire it."

"Really?" Blaster asked. He really wanted to ask the question in more detail, but refrained himself. All in good time. Soundwave would be given the right to disclose whatever the heck he wanted.

"Mmm."

Silence lapsed between them. In that silence, Soundwave was very tempted to peek inside of Blaster's mind, to use his telepathy to see what he really thought of him, of the act committed on him. Although the navy mech trusted his friends words, there was only one way to know for certain.

'_No, you fool!'_ he yelled at himself. The trust that was held between them was slowly starting to strengthen. If Blaster detected him searching inside his mind, he may kick them all out of his quarters and he would be alone. He cursed himself for even _thinking_ about telepathically searching Blaster's mind. If something could be foolish, that was it. If Blaster said that he was strong, if Blaster said that he was going to be better, then he had to trust those statements. Because Blaster was one of the most truthful bots. Always had been from the time that they had met back in their _Frequency Academy_ orns.

So they stayed in silence, watching as the daily events of the world played out like a play before them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope you liked that. I know I did. **

**As usual, I would LOVE any reviews you give. Now, who would everyone like to see as the asshole/idiot? To our favourite Cons? I've already got Cliffjumper lined up, but anyone else?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: FREAKING SQUEE dude! I got 12 reviews for that last chapter, and baby am I feeling the love! Thank you all so much. This chapter will be a little shorter than the other ones, but the next chapter I promise I will make thick with plot and fluff and angst. **

**You all know I do not in any way own Transformers. **

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 6<strong>

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><p>Blaster and Soundwave stood on the top of the volcano for the rest of the day, simply watching everything.<p>

Soundwave felt a little guilty at one point, saying that they should go down so Blaster could tend to his duties, but Blaster stamped the protest down, saying that Soundwave was more important at the moment and Optimus had given him full clearance. While a little of the guilt hadn't receded, Soundwave had to admit he had been glad.

Because he had finally gotten to see his first real sunset, and to savour it.

It held a symbolic meaning for him. The sunset, the close, on his life as a Decepticon, and the close on how Megatron would not touch him or his cassettes ever again. It bolstered him with a new strength, and it gave him the courage to try and sort things out – to work through this…violation.

He had told Blaster so as the sunset completed, and his friend was thrilled.

However, even the telepathic reaches of Soundwave could not have predicted the event that was to happen.

The split sparks walked down the side of the volcano in an amiable silence before entering the Ark.

They were heading down the hallway to Blaster's quarters, when suddenly a bot yelled loudly behind them.

"DECEPTICON! ATTACK!"

Both mechs span around, meeting the huge gun of Cliffjumper and the slightly smaller ones of Gears and Huffer. Blaster made to run as the guns fired, but noticed Soundwave had frozen. Making a split second decision, he leaped at the visored mech, tackling him to the ground, a shot scorching his lower back plating and tearing through the top part of his armour. He winced, but did not cry out. He span them around so that his back was to the minibots, effectively shielding Soundwave from any shots.

"Blaster! What are you doing? TRAITOR!" Cliffjumper yelled, and Blaster heard as footsteps moved forward. He would have turned and fought back, but Soundwave was shaking violently, so much so that the tremors were translating into Blaster's frame.

And then another pair of footsteps, but only this time they were running.

"Guns down mechs! Ah said, _down!_"

Blaster sighed in relief. That was Jazz, and surely Prime would have told his top to officers by now. He muttered in his friends audial, "Wave? Talk to me, say something…come on, Main Machine."

But Soundwave didn't speak. Only trembled slightly less.

"Oi! Jazz, why? He's a CON! He's probably come to murder us in our berths!" Huffer joined in, Cliffjumper grunting his agreement to that statement.

Jazz glared at the three minibots. Just when he had been trying to find them to tell them about the enemies on base – not why there were here, however – they already got themselves deep in slag. Jazz cursed himself for his stupidity. He could have told the minibots first before anyone else, especially these three.

"Cos, Prime's given 'em amnesty. And Soundwave has defected and is stayin' with Blaster. It's an order by Prime to treat Soundwave an' his cassettes, and Starscream and his trine like you would any Autobot or Neutral," Jazz said, crossing his arms.

"That's slag!"

"They'll kill us all!"

"No good dirty Con!"

Soundwave flinched. They'd said it…he was dirty. He was dirty…was his shame so obvious, were the stains still there? The sunset and the promise he'd made to himself to overcome this seemed a million years ago in the face of the attack. He felt Blaster's arms tighten around him, trying to provide him with comfort, but still he shook and wanted to scream. Scream out his rage, to scream out his weakness, his despair.

"Shut it! Ah don't wanna hear it, and if ya harass them, Ah'll do more damage to ya than any Con will. Now move soldiers! That's an order!" Jazz barked. He knew that those comments could do the most damaged to a bot's mentality when they had been through such an event.

Although the minibots grumbled, they walked off.

"Thanks mech," Blaster called over his shoulder.

Jazz gave him a grim smile and made to walk over. "Ya need help, Blast?"

Blaster shook his helm. "Nah, I'll be cool. I'll get him to calm down and we'll go back to our quarters. But…where are you gonna be in the next two hours?"

"Er, rec-room. Ah'll see ya there then," Jazz said, swiftly leaving to give both cassette players some privacy.

Soundwave heard the spoken words as if through a fogged night and most of the talkers were far away. It was also muffled, like he had cotton wool stuffed in his audials. Which Frenzy and Rumble had did once. It took all his will to concentrate on the arms around him, but he couldn't help the fear. The shots fired reminded him of Megatron's fusion cannon, and he feared for his cassettes. Again, weakness came back to him, because here he was, shaking on the floor, and he was not checking up on them. He frantically reached through their bonds, and was relieved to have them assured them that they were ok and playing tug of war with Blaster's cassettes.

Meanwhile, Blaster swore inwardly. Just when they had taken two little steps forward, they had taken a big step back again. But he would never give up on Soundwave until he healed all the fractures in that hurt spark.

"Come on Soundwave, they are gone now. Let's go home…hmm?" Blaster asked carefully.

Home.

The concept was slightly foreign to the telepath. Cybertron was the only place he had really felt home for all these years. The _Nemesis_ never was. He found it somewhat funny that the sense of 'home' made him think immediately of Blaster's quarters.

Was that what happened when you felt safe? When wherever you felt safe, secure…and dare he say wanted imprinted on you that you felt like it was home?

Whatever it was, he took several deep intakes, opening up his mask which had snapped close when the first shot had fired, and wriggling. "I want to get up and go home," he whispered hoarsely.

Blaster disentangled his arms around the other mech (oh how it had felt wonderful, for a moment, to imagine what it would be like to wake up like that) and stood, helping Soundwave up as well.

"You are injured," Soundwave stated, gesturing towards his back.

Blaster turned around, noticing the scorched plating and the slight bit of energon before shrugging it off. He'd had worse. "I'll be fine. I'll go get it fixed when you are resting. Ok? Let's go home." Blaster jerked his helm towards the next hallway encouragingly. He felt angry, there was no doubt, but that could wait.

Soundwave moved forward when Blaster did and they hurried back to Blaster's quarters just in case of another incident.

When they entered, Soundwave immediately let out a spark call for his creations, kneeling down and enveloping them all into his arms, scared of just _how_ he had feared for them, knowing about Megatron's threat. He nuzzled against them all, feeding their bond with worry and affection and receiving their love and support back. He was so relieved, so thankfully relieved to hold them. Ratbat was especially cuddly, chirring and nosing into his neck. The action made him flinch slightly, but concern overweighed the phantom sensations.

"Dad, you're beginning to squish!" complained Rumble, squirming a little.

Soundwave lessened his hold immediately, giving the lilac twin a little tilt of his helm and a mental caress in apology. He was too overwhelmed in emotions to really tell what he was doing. He bid his creations a good night before getting up and stumbling to his room. He heard Blaster tell his cassettes something before hurrying after him.

He was on the berth when Blaster entered and kneeled in front of him.

"I'm here Soundwave. For whatever. Talking, hugging, singing, whatever. I'll always be there for you," Blaster said firmly.

"You cannot promise that," Soundwave pointed out.

Blaster frowned, and then said, "Ok…so on the chance that I _do_ go to the Well of Sparks, it doesn't mean I'm truly gone. I'll live on in memory…or I'll come back to haunt you." He added that, hoping to make Soundwave at least grin a little.

Soundwave did manage a watery smile, before he sighed, rocking back and forth slightly.

"But I mean it. You're going through something that most bots don't. And it's understandable you feel like a victim. But you've already taken a key step forward in becoming a survivor."

Soundwave canted his helm to the side in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"You asked for help. And you are letting me in. I'm going to continue to help you out, and do whatever you feel needs to be done so that you feel safe. OK? And ignore the mini's. I felt you stiffen when they said dirty," Blaster growled the word, seeing Soundwave listen attentively. "Don't believe 'em. You are not dirty. You are just hurting, and that's a difference. Can you promise _me_ something?"

Soundwave inclined his helm slightly.

"I know it's going to be hard. _Don't_ blame yourself. Don't blame yourself for getting raped, and don't blame yourself that I got hurt. I can see it in your visor," Blaster said gently, taking Soundwave's hands and squeezing them, anchoring the melancholy mech.

"I will try, Blaster," Soundwave choked out at least. Emotions, so long forgotten, were overwhelming him, almost suffocating him, and it had been almost painful to get the words out.

The red mech gave him an encouraging smile. "That's all I ask. Now…what can I do for ya? Right now."

Soundwave thought it over. What did he really want? The answer came to him and he replied softly, "Could you please sing me into recharge? And stay?"

Blaster frowned slightly, "Well, I'll sing you into recharge, but I'll have to go to the med-bay after that. Are you sure you want me to stay and recharge next to you? I don't want to push you."

Soundwave stayed silent, and Blaster could almost _hear_ his processor tick over in thought.

Finally, Soundwave nodded firmly.

"I need you here. Just in case," the navy mech admitted a little bashfully.

Blaster shrugged and sat on the berth next to the other mech, who had now laid down. Taking a hand again, Blaster began to hum the intro to one of the holo-matter keyboard melodies that had been so popular back when they were younger, before beginning to sing softly. The song wove its magic around them both, and Soundwave relaxed, giving Blaster a small smile before cycling down into recharge. Blaster sung a few more bars and then stopped. He stood, settling a blanket over his recharging friend, and exited the room.

The cassettes were waiting for him expectantly.

"He's ok?" asked Ratbat.

Blaster nodded. "For now, but I have to go see someone. Comm. me if he starts to have a flux or if you guys need anything. Got enough energon?" They all nodded at him. He smiled a little wearily at them and said, "Good. Rewind, Eject, can you please pull the mattress out of the couch? I think that will be more comfortable for our guests than the floor."

His twins saluted him and he sent a pulse of thanks over their creator-creation bond and left the room.

* * *

><p>The anger was back.<p>

He was out of the medbay, First Aid having done an impeccable job on his back, and he was now a mech on a mission.

His faceplates clouded over with a dark frown as he stalked towards the rec-room. He needed to talk to Jazz. He went through to the rec-room, startling a few bots with his stony and furious expression as he searched and found Jazz. Plunking himself down in a chair, he growled, "What the frag, Jazz?"

Jazz sighed, looking apologetically at his friend.

"Ah should have told 'em first, but Ah was too worried about the Dinobots and tellin' them first that Ah almost forgot the minis. They were the last ones Ah told, and Ah'm sorry Blast-man," Jazz said.

Blaster vented and scrubbed a hand over the back of his helm. He couldn't take this out on Jazz. The mech had spent the day telling _every_ mech that there were enemies who were granted amnesty on base. "How are they all taking it?"

"Well, most of them have been somewhat neutral about it if Ah told them the reason why – oh Ah didn't say 'rape,' Ah said attacked," Jazz assured, seeing Blaster's incredulous look, and the continued. "Some of them are alright with it. The attitude bein' 'whoever is not against us is with us,' so that's a positive. But other's have said they'd watch their actions and then see if the Con's are trustworthy." He snorted, "Not like they'll have it in the front of their processors with what they've been through."

"Tell me about it."

"How is ol' Sounders doin' anyway?" Jazz asked, truly concerned.

Blaster sighed. "It's a little tiring, but I can't and won't give up on him. He's was my best friend, and with him deferring, it hasn't changed. He's still the same mech I met all those years ago. Changed, certainly, but at spark, he's still the good mech I met. He's hurting so much Jazz."

Jazz nodded, wanting Blaster to continue.

"It's not only that his leader betrayed him in the worst possible way…but…" He broke off, looking at Jazz scrutinisingly, before leaning forward and whispering, "I'm not sure if I should tell ya this, but he feels worthless and dirty, and my spark just _aches_ for him. He's also worrying about his creations, and he fears them being hurt. By who, I don't know, Con or Autobot, it doesn't matter. And sometimes what I do…it doesn't feel like enough."

Jazz whistled in sympathy. "That's heavy mech. But Ah think ya're doin' enough."

"What makes you say that?"

"He ain't tried to kill himself yet," the TIC replied grimly, hearing Blaster gasp.

"Primus! I hope not!" Blaster exclaimed, wondering if he should dash back to his quarters right then just to check on the mech he loved. Jazz put a hand on his shoulder, patting him.

"Chill. Ah think ya should talk to Prowl."

The boom box frowned at the saboteur. "Why?" he asked.

Jazz smiled grimly again, and leaned forward like Blaster had done and muttered lowly, "Ya can't tell this to anyone, as it's classified. Only Prowl and Ah can share the info, and Prowl in the thick of it." Blaster raised his optic ridges in surprise, but nodded his helm. Jazz went on, "Prowl would know what it's like to be a victim of assault. Not sexual, mind ya, but assault can take many forms."

"Ya see, his last relationship, and Ah'm talking just after he made lead tactician of the Autobots, back when the war was only startin' to brew, was with this femme. Her name was Cloudburst, and she had a brother called Cloudstrike. Now Prowler thought she was 'the One.' She had been so nice to him, been so attentive, and what mech don't want attention? So Prowler fell hook, line, and sinker. Later, much later, he found out she was only with him for how good he was in the berth and because of his status. Anyways, she started showin' her true colours little bit by little bit. Started callin' him names and humiliatin' him in front of friends and officers, cuttin' him down on his work and his battle computer…and his looks," Jazz gave a mirthless chuckle here. "Oh, how she destroyed him inside about how he looked."

"Wow," breathed Blaster. Jazz really was aware what he was going through. He had obviously had to go through it with Prowl, but a little differently.

"Oh yeah, this was hushed up big time when they found out what was bein' done to Prowl." Jazz paused, seemed to debate something with himself, and then said, "And somethin' drastic happened. Well…two things. I can't tell ya one, that's Prowler's to tell."

"But Cloudstrike was a mean brute. Couldburst had been complainin' to her bro how Prowl had cut her off from his funds, and he attacked Prowl for it…and tried to abuse him in the way that Soundwave and Starscream have been abused, but Prowl fought back and almost killed him. After that, he kinda realised what he had to do and went to Sentinel and Optimus – who was his protégée at the time – and told 'em. They got the Clouds out of Prowl's life, but it wasn't until Ah came along that the pain in his spark was finally able to go away," Jazz finished quietly, a little smile on his face. Blaster deduced he was thinking about Prowl.

"So _that's_ why Prowl avoided you for so long," Blaster stated in wonder.

The black and white nodded. "Yup. But Ah don't regret a minute of time Ah waited for him to come around. He's my all and a part of me."

Blaster smiled fully at Jazz, feeling refreshed and determined. Jazz grinned back. "Thanks Jazz. And I'll get Prowl to talk to me and maybe Soundwave too – and maybe Starscream could do with a visit. Oh you don't know how hopeful you've made me!"

As Blaster left, Jazz sighed. Blaster was wrong. He knew how hopeful Blaster had been. He had been there and knew that in the darkest hours, the supporting mechs needed support too. He could only wish that the red mech found his own happiness as well because of it. A presence came up to him, and he looked up and lost himself within the deep optics of his mate.

"I think that was very classy. The way you did it," Prowl said softly, gently brushing the back of his fingers along Jazz's cheek. Jazz kissed the digits and smiled.

"Anything for ya, love."

* * *

><p>Blaster re-entered his quarters for what seemed like the millionth time that day, giving a gentle smile to Soundwave's cassettes who were now in recharge on the pull-out mattress. He went to check on his own cassettes, who were curled around each other in their own recharge on his berth. He pulled his blanket up and tucked it around them. He would have recharged with them, but he knew they understood he needed to be with Soundwave.<p>

Slipping in to the room, the Autobot moved forward onto the berth slowly, watching the other mech for any adverse reaction. Some part of him felt like he was pushing, but Soundwave had wanted him to recharge with him so much. He was relieved when Soundwave did nothing but turn over to curl in toward him, looking for warmth and security.

Putting his arms around the ex-Decepticon was slightly bittersweet. He wished the situation countless times, but not the circumstances.

No, the circumstances he had pictured with Soundwave in his arms had been after a nice, long, hot and steamy consensual interface with them in each other's arms cooling down, and then recharging together.

Blaster pushed the thought away. He couldn't think like that, at least not now.

Wrapping his arms more securely over Soundwave, Blaster finally dropped into recharge, exhausted by the ups and downs of the past day.

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><p><strong>AN: You want updates, I give you updates. :D But then again, I'm not feeling 100% and thus more able to give you a new chapter so quick. I hope you all review! I'm still ecstatic over the 12 I got for the last chapter! I hope you liked this. **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Again, thank you all for the reviews and how you took that little thing with Prowl. I am glad you reacted favourably. Ok, I anticipate this being a LONG chapter. You know that I do not own Transformers.**

**Oh, by the way, I don't own 'Mrs. Doubtfire' either. I also know it's not exactly in the G1 timeline, but I threw it in there because I like it. **

**Warnings: Slight not-too-explicit consensual sticky and looking at interface equipment for medical examination.**

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 7<strong>

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><p>"Ooohhhh!"<p>

"Yeah babe, c'mon."

"J-Jazzzzz!"

"Unf, that's hot! Uh….hah, gonna overload if ya do that again."

"Jazz! OH! Unnggg….."

"Prrrroooowwwlllleerrr! Ggrrrnngghh!"

The couple panted on their berth, spent from their morning interface, Jazz collapsing onto Prowl's chestplates, feeling and hearing the steady thrum of the spark beneath and relishing the fact that the spark was his. Forever. Looking up into the sated faceplate's of his mate, Jazz grinned slightly and leaned up to touch their lips together briefly before slowly pulling out, hissing as Prowl's valve clamped on his spike as if to draw him back in. He threw a mock glare at Prowl, who only smiled benignly back.

Moving from between the lubricant slicked and splayed thighs, slumping to Prowl's side and throwing a lazy arm over him, he purred happily, "Oh sweetspark, that has got to be _the_ best way of wakin' up!"

"Mmm," mumbled Prowl, "I disagree. As long as I wake up with you, it's a good morning nevertheless." He got another kiss from Jazz for that comment, and felt over the bond how Jazz felt like _glowing_ with the compliment and the love in which it was said. Jazz settled back onto Prowl's shoulder with a soft sigh, simply enjoying the tranquillity of their time alone, before their duties came into play.

"Ya know, Ah've been thinkin'-"

"Oh, that's dangerous," Prowl teased, jabbing his mate playfully in his abdomen.

"Hey! Anyways, Ah think ya shouldn't talk to our 'guests' yet," Jazz said.

Prowl frowned. "Why? It could help them."

"Ah know ya wanna help anyone in the same situation as ya, love, but at least not talk to the fliers yet. They might go back to the _Nemesis_, even after what they've gone through, and them knowin' ya have been hurt like that…well, Ah don't want the info in Megatron's hands," Jazz pointed out, as usual, concerned for his gorgeous mate. "Soundwave ya can talk to, he wants to stay though."

The chevroned mech saw the complete logicality in his mate's response and nodded, clasping Jazz closer to him and stroking his upper arm.

"I see. We have to get up now," Prowl mumbled in Jazz audio, causing him to shiver in delight.

The visored mech pouted, "Aw, but lyin' here with ya is the best thing in the world!"

Prowl laughed softly, and with a wicked smirk, began tickling the slightly smaller black and white mercilessly, finding the nodes that made his lover shriek with laughter and thrash in uncontrollable fits. Finally, when Jazz was gasping from giggling too much, Prowl relented, a knowing smile on his dignified face.

"Prowler, you are one…hehe…evil mech," Jazz panted out as he calmed down from the tickle fit.

"I know. Now: shower, energon, and then, to work."

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><p>When Thundercracker woke up, for an astrosceond, he had no clue where he was. Because for one thing, the berth he was on was firm, but also comfortable.<p>

_The Nemesis_ had never had so pleasant a berth for any soldier who was not an officer.

His optics calibrated fully, and he looked up to see an orange ceiling. He frowned up at it, and realisation slowly trickled back. He gave a soft grunt, rising up and stretching, noticing in the periphery of his vision that Skywarp was up and sitting at a small table at the foot of the berth. He was drinking slowly from a cube of fresh energon, looking contemplative.

Shaking his wings a little, Thundercracker said quietly, "Morning."

Skywarp shot him a quick smile and replied, "Morning."

The blue Seeker knew this was not his lover's usual morning behaviour. Usually, he would just teleport and squeeze him tightly from behind and give an almost too happy 'Morning TC!' But he said nothing. He had not been touched during their ordeal, only watched, and who knew what was going inside the black Seeker's mind. He took his own cube from the dispenser so thoughtfully provided and sat opposite the usually bubbly flier.

Again, Skywarp gave Thundercracker a smile, this one not as blinding as the first, but more sincere. It put Thundercracker at ease a little bit. It meant the world to him to see that smile from Skywarp, and he mumbled, "It's good to see you smile."

"I'll always smile for you, TC," Skywarp said, reaching a hand out and lacing it with the other flier's, keeping their hands linked in a soft grip.

They looked into each other's optics for a few moments, looking for something in the other wordlessly. Crimson on crimson, they relaxed further, and Thundercracker lifted the purple hand to his lips and gently brushed his lips over it.

Skywarp sighed in relief. Relief of what, he wasn't quite sure. Thundercracker's demeanour was putting him at ease. It also made him voice the concerns that had been going through his processor since he had woken up.

"Hey TC…uh…I was wondering…" he began.

"Yes?"

Skywarp vented. "Um…I don't want to go back to the _Nemesis_. But I don't want to be an Autobot either. And there doesn't really seem any place to go. We can't go back to Cybertron. It's pretty much sucked dry, plus it's got Cyclops, and-"

Thundercracker broke in, "Cyclops?"

"Shockwave…one optic?"

The older Seeker merely arched an optic ridge, which made Skywarp giggle a little, before he went on. "So...yeah, not Cybertron. We don't have any other planets we really want to be on. Not to mention we'd be alone out there. I also kinda like it here. This Prime's always been better than the one who gave the order to bomb Vos. I want to know what you think."

Thundercracker gave the teleporter a mirthless chuckle. "Being Decepticons for so long, it feels odd, not to go back to the _Nemesis_. I also know that we will no longer be safe from Megatron's whims if we go back, and I cannot risk your safety…nor mine," he said in a low voice. "I agree with you. I don't want to be an Autobot. I really actually don't want to fight anymore. If we could just exist here until the end of the war, then it would be fine. I don't see how that will happen though. We'd be a drain on resources, and I doubt the Autobot's would want that."

Skywarp sighed and tightened his hand momentarily over Thundercracker's. It made his spark pulse with the simple gesture. Skywarp was worried. And he hated to see his lover worried.

"Or," he spoke again, an idea coming to mind, "if we just help out, but don't take their symbol…do something useful, like train those Aerialbots or something similar. Maybe then we could stay. We'd be safe."

Skywarp snorted, "Aerialbots? Those excuses for Seekers? Yeah, they'd _definitely_ need our help."

Thundercracker ignored the comment. The protective streak he usually kept hidden was coming out. With slow movements, he brought his hand up to the black jet's cheek, gently cupping it and stroking his thumb over the pale plating. The innocent, yet sometimes wickedly dangerous, faceplates of Skywarp had matured slightly in the last two days. And oh how he wanted to kiss away any doubt, to wash away the defilement, but he knew the other Seeker had to initiate it. Only then would Skywarp would be ready for such intimacy again. He felt it as the younger mech leaned into the touch, optics dimming slightly with the contact.

"I want to try something, TC," Skywarp said softly.

"Go ahead," TC rumbled softly, leaning forward.

Just was slow as Thundercracker had lain his hand upon his cheek, Skywarp leaned forward so their helms were touching, nasal ridges almost brushing.

"Don't push yourself," the blue Seeker warned.

With a sigh, Skywarp whispered, "I'm fine like this…but I'm not ready to kiss you. It…still feels wrong."

"What if I kiss you on your cheek or your helm, or your neck? Do you feel uncertain when you think about me touching there?" Thundercracker asked softly. Skywarp shrugged, but didn't answer definitively. The older jet felt that response told him enough. He moved forward and to the side, brushing his lips over a cheek seam, and then up over the nasal ridge and to the black plated Seeker helm, designed to be appealing and streamlined. He peppered light kisses there, being slow and light, ready to back away at any sign of discomfort. He pulled away, optics again searching on Skywarp's.

The black Seeker was smiling a little, and he said, "That felt really right, TC. I didn't feel freaked out at all."

Thundercracker gave Skywarp's hand another reassuring squeeze, releasing them just as the door gave a little chime. The Seeker's glance at each other in question, but Thundercracker got up and opened the door, surprised at seeing his trine leader standing there, Skyfire behind him.

"Uh, hi," Starscream said softly, "can I come in?"

Thundercracker darted a look to the shuttle, who was just standing there, looking a bit uncomfortable. Starscream noticed where his gaze went and said, "Skyfire's just going to go get some stuff before he comes back. I want to speak to you both alone."

The tricoloured jet stepped through, throwing a look back to his caretaker and moving to the small table in the quarters as Thundercracker shut the door and followed.

"It's good to see you," Starscream smiled a small smile at the youngest trinemate.

Skywarp stood and threw his arms around the Air Commander with a small sob of gratitude. "You stopped him from taking me in the valve. You were so, so brave, Star." He pulled back a little, feeling the other mech fidget, "And I have so much to thank you for. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you had to do that, sorry that me and TC never realised whenever you joined us for an interface-"

"It's not your fault," Starscream halted the apologies in a quiet voice. "If anything, it is mine for not speaking up before. I was too cowardly."

"It's not anyone's fault but Megatron's. He is diseased and sick for even starting on you, Starscream," Thundercracker broke in, stepping closer to his trinemates and putting his arms around them, giving them solid comfort. Starscream forced himself to relax. He had hidden his pain so many times before that it was second nature now. He had another reason for coming here, and knew he had to say it now before he lost his nerve.

"I want to do the Trine Ritual," he said quietly, nearly so quietly the other mechs couldn't hear him.

Skywarp and Thundercracker looked at each other with surprise etched onto their faceplates. It had been such a long time since they had done it, but they couldn't think of a better thing to do.

It was the ritual that all trines had to perform. It was not merely a duty or obligation, but a promise. A promise to be loyal to the trine, to the trinemates, and to protect them from any harm. It helped to reinforce the trine, to bring the energy fields in synch – thereby being more effective when flying and performing death-defying manoeuvres if need be. It was a signal of the deepest commitment and devotion without having to be lovers or bondmates, a sacred thing within Vos. They had not been able to do it without the Conehead's noticing and so they had not refreshed the unspoken vows they had taken as a trine in quite some time.

"When?" asked Skywarp.

"There is another thing in the way of it. We need to fly to complete it, and the only way the Autobots will let us do that is if we do not return to the _Nemesis_. So I must ask you both. Are you going to stay or go?" Starscream asked tentatively.

"No way in pit. We are staying. Not to be Autobots, but staying," Thundercracker answered his tine leader.

The usually proud jet nodded, sagging slightly in relief. "Good. I am staying also. This is my out, and I'm taking it. I don't want to have to live in fear of being taken against my own will ever again. But I have my concern for the Coneheads. Whether we like them or not, I still command them, and they are my responsibility."

"They are tough," assured Skywarp, "And we can always say to Prime we _really_ need to have this war ended and Megatron locked up or dead once and for all."

Starscream didn't like it, but accepted it. With them gone, the Coneheads could be placed in the line of fire, but he hoped that Megatron was so intent on getting his better trine back that he wouldn't worry about the other mechs.

"How are things with Skyfire?" Thundercracker asked.

Starscream did a funny sort of expression between a grimace and a smile, and he replied, "A little awkward. He's got an extra berth in his room, so I recharge there and that's fine. But he keeps encouraging me to talk about what's been done to me over the years, and I'm finding it difficult because I've always hidden what's happened to me. I hate feeling weak because I cry every time I begin to talk. He's just there, holding me, unselfishly, and I can't help but be reminded by the way I've treated him."

Thundercracker gave his trine leader a light pat on the back and suggested, "Tell him. You've let him hold you and you've cried already. It's really good for you to get it out."

"Hmm. You are right in theory, but reality isn't quite…well, anyway, I better go and let Prime know we are staying. I'll see you later," Starscream said, frowning in thought.

As Starscream began to turn out of the trines embrace, they all got a comm. to report to the medbay.

"I wonder why?" wondered Skywarp aloud.

"No clue," Starscream replied, walking out the door and seeing Skyfire walk up with a cube of energon at that moment. He gave his friend a small smile, taking the cube and drinking deeply. He began to walk to the medbay, Skyfire and his trine behind him in silence.

* * *

><p>Ratchet waited, twirling his wrench absent-mindedly.<p>

He didn't wait long.

The group of four fliers trekked in quietly, and awaited his instructions. "Starscream, please go in the room you were in when we first brought you here. Skyfire, you can do whatever you want for the next half an hour, as long as it's not here. Skywarp and Thundercracker, on that berth," the medic pointed as the mechs obeyed his instructions without a grumble, groan, or protest. It was a change from most of the Autobots, who had to be dragged to the medbay sometimes as they complained loudly.

When Skyfire left, Ratchet got the small cube of fluid he had prepared earlier and approached the Seeker couple, who were holding hands, safe in this environment.

"Now, I'm just going to do a quick check-up on all your systems. I want to see what your overall level of maintenance and health is. I am doubtful of Hook's work, even if he is a perfectionist," Ratchet said to them, and the gestured to the cube of clear fluid. "This is a sanitiser. Skywarp, I felt it prudent to give you this. It sanitizes all surfaces of any contaminant. This one is safe to gargle with, but under any circumstances, _do not_ swallow. Or else I'll have to flush all your tubing, and that won't be fun."

Skywarp perked up. He knew the hidden words in the mini-lecture amounted to something like, '_use this, it actually gets rid of the physical trace of transfluid,'_ and he was glad for the medic's thoughtfulness. He took the cube, gave Ratchet a quick grin, going over to a sink and gargling the clear fluid.

Meanwhile, Ratchet had plugged in a general medical scanner into the nape of the blue jet's neck, feeding directly from the neural activity in the wires. He watched the readings carefully for any viruses or glitches in code. The machine beeped, and Ratchet hummed in concentration as he studied the results. "You need a few firewalls, but those are easily installed. You have no viruses or glitches, your spark pulse and strength are fine and you have no signs of rust, cosmic or otherwise. However, you need to up your fuel intake a bit – but that may be the quality of the energon from your faction. And, if you intend to stay, then you must see me in a month to have your tanks flushed. Not fun, but essential."

Thundercracker merely nodded. He kept the date of next month in mind. If they were going to stay, after all, it would be good not to piss off the resident medic.

Skywarp walked back and sat on the berth, smiling a little and twining his hands with his lover's once more. He handed the empty cube back to Ratchet and said, "That was _just_ what I needed."

"You are welcome. Your turn," Ratchet stated, indicating the scanner and unplugging from Thundercracker and switching to Skywarp. He went through the same process, waiting for the machine to finish before reading out the results.

"You are similar to Thundercracker here in that you need a few firewalls and better energon, as your systems are not running at capacity," informed the Autobot, "but you have a few additional problems. Your warp generator needs to be looked at and repaired as you have a few wires torn out. And you also need some maintenance to your thrusters. It reads here they have not been cleaned or recalibrated in some time, and that needs to be done if you stay. Apart from that? You are healthy and working in optimal parameters." As Ratchet concluded, he asked, "Are you both going to stay?"

"Yes," they answered simultaneously, no doubt in their minds.

Ratchet nodded. Good. He wouldn't have to shackle them to the medberths and fix them then. He then informed them of when to come back and get those problems looked at before he dismissed them and went into Starscream's room.

The tricoloured Seeker was on his berth, back to the door, muttering something and scribbling on a datapad. Ratchet wanted to ask where he had got it from, then realised it was one of Skyfire's smaller ones. Clearing his vocaliser, Ratchet said, "I take it you are staying here with us on base?"

Starscream spun around, but relaxed upon seeing Ratchet. He scowled a little and replied, "Not as Autobots. We want to stay and be useful, but we are not taking a faction symbol."

Ratchet nodded. It was understandable of course, and such a radical change could not be expected of Starscream, who had been a Decepticon from the start. He moved forward, holding the medical scanner and silently asking the question to check Starscream's systems. Starscream narrowed his crimson optics, but nodded, allowing the red and white mech to plug the machine in.

As before, Ratchet read out the results. "You need more of our better quality energon, more rest, more firewalls, a thrusters check, a few panels on your wings need to be adjusted to make you more flight-efficient, and…wait…a virus? In your vocaliser?" Piercing blue optics looked at Starscream, wanting an answer.

"You honestly think my voice was always this screechy? Another of Megatron's brilliant plans to break me," Starscream sneered, turning his face away in shame. He had a nice voice once. Under pain of deactivation did Hook refuse to fix him.

Ratchet felt his cooled rage bubble up to the surface. How had none of them known that Megatron had always been this vile? He shook his helm and looked at the rest of the results. He did not say these out loud. No use as there was so many. He sifted through each, getting a datapad out of subspace and making a list of what needed to be done at Starscream's appointment. After doing so, he gave Starscream an apologetic look and said, "I need to look at the valve replacement to see if everything looks good. We will only know if it lubricates well enough when…well, you'll know." He finished awkwardly, but Starscream merely nodded and sighed in assent.

Starscream shifted on the berth, lying half-propped up and legs bent at the knee, held wide. Shuttering his optics, he sent the signal to open his panel. He wanted to cry out, to scream, to cover himself up, but reminded himself that this was clinical, this was for medical purposes.

The chevroned mech took pity on the flier, moving forward to do the inspection, gently pressing around the valve, scanning the area, using a thin metal rod to test the inside, trying to be precise and swift. Starscream was visibly tense, hands clenching.

Retracting the rod, Ratchet said, "It's fine. Well done."

Starscream ex-vented shakily. It had taken all of his will power not to jerk away. He was relieved, however, that he had not reacted more negatively.

"Am I free to go?" he asked softly.

With a small chuckle, Ratchet said, "You sound like an Autobot already if you are asking that! But yes. Skyfire left me a message and said he's in his lab. Do you know the co-ordinates?"

With a nod, Starscream gave the medic a thanks and left, heading for the lab, where Skyfire had promised to distract him from himself, but made the proviso that Starscream talk about his trauma. Starscream knew he was being subtly manipulated, and he couldn't find it in himself to care. As long as it was Skyfire, then he would blab until his vocaliser was sore.

* * *

><p>It was warm. It was comfortable. It was oddly right for both of those things to be there.<p>

Under the brilliant red crystal of his visor, Soundwave unshuttered his optics and flicked them around. He was in his new room , and had in the middle of the night, pressed up against Blaster, who was still in the depths of recharge. Soundwave felt his faceplates heat in a blush. His face was practically on Blaster's chest, and he had threaded a leg through Blaster's while one of his friend's legs was thrown over his upper thigh. The intimacy of the position almost frightened him, but it did not make flashbacks appear on his HUD, nor did it made phantom aches flit across his sensor net.

If anything, he felt…awkward.

He was also a little concerned how Blaster would react.

After all, Blaster had been the one to worry about them resting together on the same berth, afraid that he could push Soundwave into a trembling, scared and vulnerable fit.

With slow movements, Soundwave moved away, careful to replace the space where his body had been with a pillow, finding the tempting urge to laugh at Blaster grabbing onto it and snuggling close to the soft object. He crept out of the room with a great longing just to spend the day with his cassettes and do nothing but hold them and watch them play.

Finding them on the pull-out mattress, Soundwave felt his spark warm. Ravage was already up. Being the classic eldest sibling and watching over the younger with soft optics. He turned, regarding his creator with a knowing look and shuffling over to make some space. The telepath took it, bringing a hand up to stroke along the feline's ears. Ravage knew what had been done to him and he had accepted it. He may not have liked it, but let his creator know that it changed nothing on how he or his siblings saw Soundwave. If anything, it made them admire him more for being strong enough to protect them and to use logical thinking to ensure that they were protected forevermore.

Feeling the presence of their father, one by one the cassettes woke, smiling up at him and getting up to sit around him, communicating wordlessly over their bonds.

It had been a long time since they had just sat and let their energies mingle as they used no words to talk. As a communications expert, Soundwave had instilled in each creation not just to communicate with verbals, but with non-verbals, pictures, sounds, gestures, and even optic flickers and movements.

The cassettes told him that they could adjust to life here. It would be odd for them not to spy on their once enemy, but instead to live among them. Soundwave took those feelings in stride, assuring them that they were not expected to change overnight. A soft sound drew his attention to the hallway, where Blaster stood with his cassettes, blinking blearily with the remainders of recharge.

"Hey, thought I'd give ya a heads up. Prowl's on his way here to go over some stuff with you about deferring and…stuff," the other cassette bearing mech informed, walking in.

Soundwave nodded, a little uncertain.

Blaster threw a grin his friends way and said, "Jazz said something about him. He'll be good with you. Professional and understanding, ya know?"

Soundwave tried to feel confidence, but couldn't. He merely stroked a hand over Ravage's cat-like helm in thought.

The other mech grimaced as he said, "I have to go on duty with my guys for half the day. The dispenser is full and Ratchet wants to give you and your guys a thorough check-up. So by the time that's done, my comms shift should be over and we can just chill after that, yeah?"

"…yeah," Soundwave replied. Inexplicably, he thought then of how he had woken up, feeling himself warm at the thought. If he asked, would Blaster do the same that night? Thinking about recharging alone made him fear the demons and terrors within his own mind.

"Right…well….yeah, Prowl'll be along soon, and I'll see ya," Blaster said a little awkwardly, giving a little wave before leaving, the door shutting with a sense of finality.

"Nice one boss," Rumble drawled, "Way to make someone feel like they did something right."

"Meaning?" the larger mech asked.

"He just spent the night comforting you and you barely give him more than a word. And he's been really decent to us," Frenzy supplied, stretching and poking his creator's side seams playfully.

The navy mech blanched, feeling guilt swamp him. He belatedly realised he had been so impersonal. Blaster now probably thought that he had left because he was afraid or scared, or possibly had a flashback due to the proximity of another. Soundwave felt the urge to bang his helm against a wall. He just felt like he couldn't do anything right. The soft chime of the door broke his thoughts and he stood, only to have the door cycle open to reveal Prowl.

"Morning Soundwave," the doorwinged mech greeted, "may I come in?"

Soundwave nodded. After all, who was he to argue with the SIC of the Autobots?

Prowl strode in, heading for the table in the corner, beckoning to Soundwave to sit there as well. They sat opposite, Prowl calm and collected as usual, Soundwave hesitant and nervous. He felt odd to be around another mech, the past few days with Blaster feeling like millennia.

"This is going to be slightly boring. It's mostly about what comes with being an Autobot, the treaties we've signed, what rules you are bound by and so on," began Prowl, taking a datapad out of subspace and laying it in front of the other mech, tapping it and saying, "This will be your new personnel file, so I will let you fill that in while I talk. The preliminary idea would be for you to work comms with Blaster, as it is a position you are used to. Are you agreeable to this?"

"Yes, sir," Soundwave replied, taking the datapad and swiftly filling in the information. A pang of nostalgia hit him as he remembered the time he had done this for the _Frequency_ Academy and then again for joining the Decepticons.

"Good. Now, first of all…"

Soundwave listened attentively to the Praxian mech as he finished up with the datapad. Prowl was efficient and professional, going through all the necessaries methodically. A small smile curved his lips. He had done this once he had gotten to the position of TIC with the Decepticons, being the informer for most, if not all, the new recruits. However this was much different. The way Prowl talked – Soundwave could _feel_ the silent passion and dedication that the black and white mech felt for his cause. Something stirred within him in the middle of an explanation about banned recreational items.

Inspiration.

He had not been so inspired ever since Megatron's first speeches back on Cybertron. The conviction Megatron held back then was eerily similar to how Prowl was talking now. Even talking his way through a pile of rules, Prowl spoke with commitment and confidence.

It really cemented in his processor that he was actually going to be an Autobot, something he had vowed never to do. There was no other option, and instead of shunning the idea, he intended to embrace it.

He and his children had been fighting for a losing cause for too long.

"Now, just one more thing," Prowl said, finishing on informing Soundwave. The ex-Con nodded and handed his datapad back. Prowl took it and placed it in his subspace without looking.

"I know you may be reluctant to share such information, but if you have any knowledge about the Decepticons and their plans or any other relevant information that can be used to tactically tip the favour against them, I would appreciate if you told me," Prowl continued, folding his hands in front of him patiently.

Soundwave canted his helm to the side, "Is it logical to give me such an out?"

"Yes."

Soundwave couldn't help but be impressed by the straightforwardness of that answer. "I will pass over any information onto a data disk and deliver it to your office when it is completed."

"Ah. Right then. In the meantime, do you have any supplies or the like that you and your creations need? Or perhaps a map of base?" Prowl asked politely.

"Pfft, ya gotta be kidding mech, we've hacked and infiltrated this place so many times it'd be weird if we _don't_ know where to go," Rumble blurted from the couch.

Prowl fell into a stony silence, turning to look at the cassettes with an inscrutable look. Rumble seemed to realise what had been said and clapped his hands over his mouth, looking sheepishly at his siblings and at Prowl.

"Well, see to it that no such events of hacking occur from now on," Prowl said quietly. Rumble nodded, the quiet authority in that tone ringing in his audials as though the words had been shouted. '_Nice one, little glitch_,' huffed Ravage telepathically, flicking an ear in distaste for the previous comment.

'_Oi, I'm no glitch!'_

But Prowl had evidently been satisfied by the mollified behaviour and turned back to Soundwave, whose mouthplates were set in a firm line. Prowl still couldn't believe that Soundwave left his mask open around him, but didn't mention it. No need to make the poor victimised mech feel any more uncomfortable than he was. He sighed as he realised he was just about to do _exactly_ that with his next words. "Before I leave, I would like to give some advice if you are willing to hear it. I understand, at least in part, your mentality right now. I know how you must be feeling. Abuse does come in more than one form, and I know. If you would like to talk about why I do, my office door is welcome any time you wish to discuss it."

Soundwave quirked his lips slightly before he bobbed his helm in affirmation and answered, "Thank you. You have been most informative, sir."

"You can call me Prowl if you like," the SIC mentioned nonchalantly as he rose and headed for the door. Once there he turned back and gave his once enemy a small smile. "Do not ever forget Soundwave, that you are as strong as you were before this event. Let no mech take that away from you. And I am sincerely pleased that you have decided to stay and defect."

"I am not strong," Soundwave said, not realising he had spoken the words out loud.

The black and white mech merely said, "You are. Perhaps stronger than myself."

Soundwave opened his mouth to ask, but Ratbat beat him to it. "Why would you say that, sir?" the youngster, curiosity getting the better of him (as it often did).

The smirk on Prowl's face before he answered was as cold and bitter as dirt packed ice before he replied, "Well, if there is a sign of strength to be gauged, then your creator is stronger in myself that he didn't attempt to self-deactivate. Good day." With the loaded and shock inducing comment left hanging in the air, Prowl left, doorwings held taut behind him.

"Holy slag," the cassette twins echoed together, looking back towards their creator, who had gone stiff with that last statement.

The larger mech and their creator found himself reeling in shock. What on Earth or Cybertron would have made the stoic, seemingly untouchable tactician break down and attempt to do such a thing? Prowl had indicated he had not been sexually assaulted, so what was it? With absolute certainty, he knew he would be going to the officer's office to question, and to possibly learn. He had honestly never thought of self-deactivating. What had happened to him was debilitating, humiliating, and still made him feel a wash of hot shame, but he had not contemplated, not once, drowning his problems and escaping them by leaving for the Well of Sparks.

Knowing that his cassettes were throwing concerned looks his way, he shrugged off the thoughts and got cubes for himself and his creations from the energon dispenser, sitting with them once again. They were his reason for living. With them around, he would never be able to even think about self-deactivating. No, he would heal, in time.

* * *

><p>"You creations are very well looked after and are in very good shape. Firewalls are up to date, sparks are strong and steady, processors and systems running efficiently. Their energon intakes are vastly better than you or the Seekers, but I expect that was because you were sacrificing your ration, correct?"<p>

Soundwave nodded. He noted that he had been doing the gesture often lately.

He was in his private room in the medbay, creations waiting outside in the main area, being watched over by First Aid – who had reacted quite favourably to them, all things considered. Ratchet was with him, going over the results of the scans of all his cassettes and himself. Not only had they been scanned, but their Decepticon insignia's were taken off and replaced with new, shiny red Autobot ones. Rumble and Frenzy even joked how the red looked better on their frames than the purple had.

But to the matter at hand. He had skimmed Ratchet's thoughts, briefly unleashing his telepathy to scan what the medic had planned. And he had a feeling the next part was going to make him cringe. It needed to be done.

"You, on the other hand," Ratchet went on with a frown, "need to take in more energon. Not only that, but your sonic cannon is not performing up to efficiency due to a small build up of an unidentifiable substance. Overall, your health could be better, your injuries are healing well, and so I'm not going to complain too much." Ratchet then settled an apologetic gaze on Soundwave's visor and said, "I do have to check your new valve. I know you aren't ready to be touched there yet, but unfortunately, necessity is the bigger evil here. If I have by any chance not installed it correctly, or if it has not assimilated into your systems, then there will be additional problems to add to your trauma."

Soundwave flinched as a brief flicker of memory crossed his mind, a sensation of an energon line breaking, slicking the brutal thrusts as growls and grunts were heard…

He vented, arms coming around to hug himself. How one thing brought him down so quick, how insecure, so worthless he was. Feeling a soft touch on his shoulder, Soundwave tilted his helm up so his visor looked into the crystal blue optics of the medic – who had been so patient, so kind and efficient.

"I am deeply sorry to do this. I'll make it as quick as possible," Ratchet promised.

Soundwave knew that there was really no use in denying the request. As the medic said, it needed to be done. Spreading his legs and getting himself as comfortable as he could on the medberth, the ex-Con found himself wanting to shut his optics and keep them open at the same time. For he knew if he shut his optics, there would be no doubt that he would replay the violation, regardless of if the touch was gentle or not. He clicked open his panel, feeling himself beginning to tremble as it was bared to the mostly white mech standing to his side.

"Good job, Soundwave," Ratchet praised, lifting his hands so the navy mech could see them and very gently lowering them to that area. His spark went out to the poor mech, who was tense and so obviously trying not to jerk away or scream. Even though it was in his function as a medic, Ratchet felt so guilty for the reaction.

Underneath his visor, Soundwave watched as Ratchet gently prodded around the opening of his new valve. He felt fear wash over him in waves. Although he _knew_ that the medic would never hurt him that way, he feared being touched inside. Slipping into Ratchet's mind briefly, Soundwave discovered that the medic was so reluctant to hurt him, and so prevented him from bolting out the door and hiding in Blaster's quarters. He tensed and stilled, letting Ratchet work. However, practical thinking didn't stop the fear from ebbing back and forth over him, of his disgrace twisting through his spark, or the impulse to sob and cry for mercy. Without knowing it, silent tears slipped out of his optics, winding slow tracks down his face to drip off his jaw line and onto his neck plating.

Ratchet saw the tears and he prodded gently, yet quickly, doing the same test he had performed on Starscream not even an hour earlier. Knowing this would haunt him, he took the thin metal rod, putting a gel on it, and eased it in briefly to check the walls and if it had integrated.

It seemed as though the installation had gone perfectly, but the medic could not stop his spark from squeezing in guilt and he pulled the rod out.

For Soundwave's tears flowed faster now and his upper body quaked, denta were biting down on a lower lip to prevent a sound from being made. Manually closing Soundwave's panel for him, Ratchet murmured gently, "I'm done. I am so, so sorry for this Soundwave. But the good news is the valve is fine."

Soundwave jerked his helm up and down in acknowledgement, managing to choke out a shaky thank you as he tried to calm himself down. Ratchet stayed with him, moving up to tenderly stroke the side of the navy helm like he had done to the frightened sparklings who had once visited his clinic on Cybertron who had been scared. Not to call the ex-Con a sparkling, but the vulnerable state was very similar to the way sparklings acted vulnerable.

Leaning slightly into the touch, Soundwave felt himself calm a little. The medic felt familiar in an odd way. He was old enough to be older than the Prime, and so had this very 'creator' like feel around him. A fresh round of tears almost broke as he recalled never having felt this same touch from his own creator. By the time his creator got him from his job as a cleaning drone, there was never any time for attention or personal relationship. With a hiccup, Soundwave trembled again, blindly reaching for Ratchet and seeking more of that creator like feel.

"Oh, youngling," Ratchet whispered, drawing the younger mech to him and letting Soundwave weep quietly into his windshield as he continued to stroke the other's helm. Slag him for being so protective, for being such a _medic_, but it felt good to let another cry it out, to turn to him for healing. He had let his own spark become disillusioned and hard with war, and this was something he had not done in a while.

"The slagger that did this to you does not deserve to live," Ratchet said fiercely, gently wiping the tears from Soundwave's faceplate not hidden by the visor.

Soundwave was surprised by the vehemence in the tone, but felt a warm glow in his spark. It felt good that he already had a few Autobots on his side apart from Blaster. He let his intakes even out, not even caring at that moment about appearing so needy in front of the medic.

"Thank you," he said again, "I did not like the check-up, but…but you did it right."

"Yeah, well, good," Ratchet said, and then mentioned, "I won't tell anybot about what happened if you don't want me to."

"It would be appreciated," the telepath replied, managing a weak smile.

Ratchet merely clapped him on the shoulder and said, "All I'd like for you to do for the rest of today is watch movies. Go watch some of everything. It's not a cure, but I find that the human movies are fascinating, if primitive."

Knowing that this was not the norm for the medic, Soundwave nodded, wiping at his faceplates to make sure his cassettes would not suspect, and left. Ratchet stood there for a second, feeling a pang for something he had not wished for in quite some time.

A sparkling.

Now, if only he could find someone to love…

* * *

><p>Soundwave had just gotten on Blaster's couch with his cassettes when the door opened and Blaster strode through, jaunty smile on his face.<p>

"Hey guys, how was your day?" he greeted.

"Interesting," the cassettes chorused, not looking from the screen where the opening credits of a movie rolled on.

Blaster's smile widened to a grin and he exclaimed, "Oh boy, I love the new symbols. Look good on all of ya." And then with a sly wink, he added, "Especially you, 'Wave. Real dashing gentlemech." All of the cassettes, his own included, chuckled at the light teasing, while Soundwave only smirked – Blaster just knowing his friend was rolling his optics under the crystal visor.

The loud voice of Robin Williams poured out of the TV speakers, and Blaster saw the scene and recognised it instantly. "Awesome! Mrs. Doubtfire! We love this movie, ya ever see it?"

The ex-Con's shook their helms in a negative and he rubbed his hands together excitedly and said, "Well, ya are in for a real treat. It's one of the better human films and is hilarious. Steeljaw, Ram, come here." Sitting down at Soundwave's feet and leaning back against his legs, the red and yellow mech patted his sides and his quadruped cassettes obliged, snuggling in. Smiling down at his cassettes, he looked back up to the movie but opened up a private comm. line with Soundwave.

:: How are you really feeling though?:: he asked, concerned.

::Would you like honesty?::

::Please.::

::Fragile. Shame, as before. And weak. I felt like a sparkling at the check-up.:: Soundwave answered, even his tone over the comm. was soft.

::Can you tell me why?:: Blaster asked cautiously. He made sure his expression gave nothing away to either his or Soundwave's cassettes.

::Ratchet had to do a valve check. I reacted both better and worse than I thought I would. The pain was coming in flashes, even though I knew Ratchet did nothing more than briefly insert a valve stick to test if it integrated into me.::

::Go on.::

::I cried again,:: Soundwave murmured, ::Ratchet looked very guilty over the whole affair. What made me feel very sparkling-like was when he comforted me like a creator and I reached for him and wept on him. He was very good about it. You are all very lucky to have a medic like him.::

::Yeah, Ratchet's a gem. And you know it's ok to cry, Wave. I'll never see it as weakness. I'll always see it as a strength, because you are letting a piece of yourself free:: Blaster replied, tone gentle and assuring. He leaned back into the blue calves of his friend and turned his helm to discreetly rub his cheek on a knee joint in comfort.

::I am very glad to have you, Blaster.:: Soundwave said, meaning it with all his spark. With Blaster around, he knew they would work through what was done to him.

::Right back atcha, main machine.::

* * *

><p>That night, Soundwave couldn't recharge.<p>

He was alone in his berthroom, having insisted to Blaster that he would be fine. But every time he closed his optics, memories set in and fear and self-loathing zipped through him, causing him to wake again.

At least his cassettes were deep in recharge, tucked into his chest compartment. Placing a hand over the new Autobot symbol, Soundwave tried to relax again, but to no avail. He was very tempted to seek Blaster out, to show his weakness once more and recharge with Blaster next to him. He was also very tempted just to stay online until he was too weary to be so, and then be so exhausted he then went into a dreamless recharge.

This cycle went on for an hour before Soundwave got fed up, cursing himself, cursing Megatron, and cursing the events that had occurred to make him like this. He got up and slid out of the room, moving silently to Blaster's berthroom.

Quietly, he slunk in, noting that the berth was bigger than his own. He was slightly confused when he didn't see Blaster's cassettes, but deduced that they, like his own, were in the chest slots.

Blaster, meanwhile, was sprawled on his back, a blanket half draw up to his torso, a beam of moonlight shining from the single, small window in the room, to light Blaster's features. Something within Soundwave made him just stare for a minute. He had forgotten Blaster's charming good looks, and the moonlight enhanced them. Something shot through Soundwave, something indescribable, and he found himself yearning to touch that face.

Shaking his helm, he wondered if he should just wake Blaster and ask to climb in, saying he couldn't rest. Blaster had been understanding. Would he still be so?

With a sigh of indecision, he made to back away, but a dim blue light made its presence known until Blaster's optics unshuttered fully. In a sleepy mumble, he said, "Wave? Tha' you? Can't recharge?"

"No," the navy mech whispered softly. Maybe he was a fool to do this.

"Nn…kay, c'mere, it's nice and warm," Blaster mumbled, scooting to the side so there was enough room for his companion.

Relief made him relax and he slowly clambered into the berth, Blaster pulling him closer and soothing him with a soft smile and a caress over his arm before dropping back into recharge. Soundwave felt secure again. It was such a selfish pleasure, but he felt safe within Blaster's arms – regardless of the awkward and possibly uncomfortable wake up. Once again, he took a moment to reflect how _good_ Blaster was being to him. He felt the odd urge to cry at this. Instead, shaking the thought away, Soundwave fell, at last, into recharge's reaching arms.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: FINALLY got this sucker done. Soundwave was being very difficult. **

**So what do you think of the 'Ratchet as a creator-like' thing? Does it work, or should I nix it? I would really love to hear what you thought about the WHOLE chapter. I'll try and get the next chapter up faster. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I cannot thank everyone enough for their reviews and their opinions. I am so very glad you enjoyed the last chapter. You know I do not own Transformers.**

**WARNINGS!: Mentions of abuse – verbal and sexual, as well as a slightly gory attempted suicide (it's not too bloody, I promise). Italics are the flashbacks.**

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 8<strong>

* * *

><p>Soundwave stood in front of Prowl's office door, both wary and curious. The Praxian had offered to talk to him, saying he could understand, but could he really? Of course the comment bomb he had dropped yesterday as he had left the room indicated the truth of intention, but as to if it would help was another matter entirely.<p>

He wondered if he should have even come at all. He had been perfectly fine with Blaster and all their cassettes, his friend showing him the comms room where he would be doing duty with Blaster on most days as part of his duty with the Autobots, and basically teaching him what was required. Both his cassettes and Blaster had then encouraged him to talk, even though he was hesitant.

Knowing it was better to enter rather than being seen by any of the more hostile Autobots, he pressed the door chime. The door cycled open, Prowl looking up from his many datapads to greet him with a barely perceivable smile.

"Good morning, Soundwave," Prowl said, placing his datapad to the side and clasping his hands in front of him, a posture of attentiveness that made Soundwave feel more at ease.

"Morning," he replied respectfully, moving forward and into the chair that Prowl indicated, holding out a USB-drive like device and placing it on the black and white's desk. "Data: Decepticon information. Knowledge: extensive but not complete," he supplied, his usual monotone through his mask.

Taking the device, Prowl nodded. "I give my thanks. This will give me a great amount of tactical data. Now, would you mind if I be completely frank with you during this meaning?"

"No."

"Good. Now, where would you like me to start?" Prowl asked.

Thinking for a moment and carefully retracting his mask, Soundwave replied, "What kind of abuse did you suffer, sir?"

The Praxian's optics turned knowing, and with a twitch of his doorwings, he replied, "You astound me with your directness, but that is part of your personality. In answer, it was mostly verbal, with some physical, and an attempted…violation. If you would like to hear it, I can describe the main parts of it and how I felt during that rather dark time – and also how I overcame it."

Recalling the inspired feeling from the day previous, the navy mech inclined his helm and said quietly, belying his eagerness, "If you could, please sir."

Optics sharpening under his striking crimson chevron, Prowl said with a faint note of determination, "Very well. You may stop me at any time if you feel at all uncomfortable."

* * *

><p><em>Walking into the administration building, the young Praxian mech quietly came up to the receptionist's desk. Another mech was there, writing notes with a stylus on a datapad. He looked up, spotted the chevroned mech and saluted him.<em>

"_Hello sir. We have been expecting you. She's in the third room on the right on the left hallway."_

_Prowl nodded, handing over his security pass over. He would have a word to the head of admin. That the young Iaconian in front of him had not asked for it was a serious breach of protocol, situations being what they were, especially with the rebel force in Kaon. When his pass was handed back, he strode down the hall, being as quiet as his name until he came to the door. He pressed the chime and received a cheerful invitation to go inside._

_Entering, he bowed in respect, not because the Autobot before him was higher ranked, but because she was a femme. Praxians had been taught to do so from the beginning of their upbringing when first meeting with a femme._

"_You must be Prowl," the femme said cheerfully, extending a hand. _

"_I am. You are Cloudburst?" he inquired, politely shaking the slim hand before taking a seat, casting a cursory glance of the femme's frame. She was rather pretty, plating a soft teal and light grey. Not overt, but classical. She had a standard femme frame, and had a single, low crest on her helm – an Autobot symbol was displayed vividly on her chest. _

"_Yes I am! Now, what can I do for you, sir?" Cloudburst asked._

_Clearing his intake, the mech asked, "I am looking for someone to help me with my transitional stage into being the Head of Tactical operations. It is the menial paperwork that I am overwhelmed with currently. It wouldn't be a long engagement. Only a few orns, just until the level of datapads is within reason. I was informed that you are efficient and discreet."_

_Cloudburst gave him a brilliant smile. "I'd love to sir."_

* * *

><p>"So innocuous was our meeting. She was so unlike what she revealed herself to be," mused Prowl, bringing two half-rationed cubes out of subspace, giving one to the visored mech opposite him.<p>

Frowning behind his visor, the telepath asked, "How long did it take for you to realise she was not what she seemed?"

Giving a small, tight smile, the black and white mech said, "I will get there a little later Soundwave. To understand, you must first realise that I fell in love."

* * *

><p>"<em>Thank you for your services. You have been most helpful during this time," Prowl said, dutifully placing the last of the completed datapads inside his desk drawer. He looked up, expecting to see Cloudburst in front of him, but instead she had moved so she was standing by his side, so he had to crane his neck up to look into her teal optics.<em>

"_It was no problem at all for me, Prowl. I have enjoyed your company. It's a real shame I'm going to be stuck back in that little cubicle they call an office you found me in," the teal femme joked, eliciting a smile from the tactician._

"_I have also enjoyed your company," he stated simply._

_Cloudburst's optics brightened imperceptibly, and she laid a hand on his shoulder, making him tense. She didn't seem to notice as she asked, "I know you don't usually get to go out with your friends, but would you like to have a cube with me? Down at that little club? It's called 'Jolts' – it's pretty respectable, and I'm sure I've seen Ultra Magnus there trying to get Sentinel Prime to relax every now and then."_

_Prowl's face was neutral as he said, "I do not usually go to clubs. Besides it would not be befitting of an officer to go to a club when I could be running scenario's with my battle computer."_

_The Iaconian femme bit her lower lipplate, looking at him with soft optics and she pleaded, "Prowl…surely it is logical to relax every now and then? If you do not relax, you can't be in top form. Please? Just one cycle or two?"_

"_Why me?" he asked, hesitant._

_He swore her optics sparkled like gems as she replied, "Because I like being around you. Because I want to know you better, to make you feel like you have someone here…"_

_Meeting her teal optics with his light blue ones, he carefully took her hand, knowing if he passed up the opportunity, he might never get it again. And…she had been very nice to talk to. _

"_Let's go then."_

* * *

><p><em>Reclining on his berth, Prowl shuttered his optics and thought of the night he had. He hadn't grinned so much since he had been a youngling back in Praxus. Cloudburst told the funniest jokes, made some odd faces that almost had him snorting his energon up his nose, and got him to dance. Of course, she had been actively flirting with him, complimenting his graceful doorwings, touching his arms and occasionally his chest, smiling at him, teasing him with a big grin on her face.<em>

_She had been so very kind and he had offered to walk her home. It had delighted her, and she hugged him before she went into her small apartment near base. _

_It warmed his spark to have someone attracted to him, and to think that possibly he was attracted in the same way. _

_Vowing to find out, Prowl sank into his recharge cycle with a small smile on his face._

* * *

><p>"Of course, after that, we did go on a series of dates and got into a serious relationship. Eventually, she moved into my quarters on base and I opened my account to her, letting her have access to my credits. We were only a few steps before bonding, really. Through all this time, there had not been one indicator of ill-character within herself. I think the only time I had an inkling was when her brother Cloudstrike came to Iacon base," Prowl said, taking a moment to sip at his cube.<p>

"Why is that name familiar to me?" Soundwave asked aloud.

Smiling a mirthless smile, Prowl answered, "Because he became a Decepticon after he broke out of an Autobot garrison for his crime against me."

* * *

><p><em>Hearing his doors cycle open, Prowl looked up from his latest datapad tracking the Decepticon's movements in the past ten orns and found Cloudburst, smiling her dazzling smile at him, dragging a mech behind her.<em>

"_Hey honey, look who got transferred! My brother, Cloudstrike!" she gushed excitedly, going around to peck Prowl on his helm._

_Prowl regaled her with a dead look, knowing he had tried to imprint on her that her preferred displays of affection to be in their quarters, before he looked to the other mech, extending his hand._

"_How do you do? Cloudburst has told me a lot about you."_

_Cloudstrike smirked, taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly. He was slightly bigger than Prowl, more blocky_, _obviously a frontline warrior with no design for any type of finesse. Like his sister, he was grey, but his shade was darker and covered his frame more. The only other colour her bore was a deep blue on certain parts of plating. "Yeah, good. Glad to be here and not Kaon, those rebels are something." Prowl kept from flinching at the voice. It was very gravelly, very deep, and in such contrast to his fairer sibling._

"_It's good to see our warrior's perseverance serving them," Prowl stated._

_Later that night, after a bout of interfacing, Cloudburst snuggled up to her lover and whispered, "Hey Prowl? I was wondering if I could go out and get something for my brother to welcome him home."_

_The black and white frowned, tilting his helm and asking, "I thought you already did that."_

"_Oh, but that nice young divisionary tactician in your command, Smokescreen? He wasn't feeling too good the other daily cycle so I gave the energon goodies to him. You don't mind, do you?" she asked innocently, teal optics batting up at him, but Prowl's frown only deepened. _

"_You have too often given gifts to others, Cloudburst," he reprimanded softly._

_The mostly teal femme let out an uncharacteristic sigh of frustration and muttered, "Well, if you want to be such a tight-aft drone…"_

_Prowl shoved her back from him, looking at his lover in shock. Not once since they had met had she ever said anything as nasty as that to him, even when she was teasing. Looking into her optics, he saw something cold and hard in them. He looked her dead in the optic and said dangerously quiet, "Please recharge on the couch tonight."_

"_You. You were mean to me," she shot back._

_Prowl shuttered his optics rapidly. Surely she couldn't mean that, it was his quarters! A shove by her foot to his thigh indicated that she did. Sighing in frustration, he got up, casting her a look in confusion. Usually they talked through whatever was bothering them. This behaviour was strange. She smirked at him, but it was different from her usual smirks. Prowl couldn't seem to pinpoint it, and he shook his doorwings before settling himself with the idea of recharging on the uncomfortable couch._

* * *

><p>"You were a gentlemech even back then," Soundwave observed. His posture was now fully relaxed as he listened to the riveting tale.<p>

"Indeed. Jazz says it's one of my…more remarkable features," Prowl acknowledged with a secretive smile. "Are you faring well so far?"

"I am. What happened next?"

"Well, it was more along that same thing, only the situation got worse. She began to whine and complain to me, saying that her job sucked, that the war sucked, that it was unfair I restricted her access to my account, that I should use my position to promote her brother. She began to use more verbally abusive language. At first, I ignored it. But with prolonged abuse…well…some of it stuck for a long time. Her favourite insult was to call me a sparkless drone who could have been better used as a pleasure mech," Prowl said, tone calm, even though Soundwave flinched. "Cloudburst was also one for public humiliation, I discovered. Sometimes she would trip me when I would have a large stack of datapads and call it a joke. Other times she called me 'loser,' 'tight-aft,' and 'drone' in public and around my superiors. Some thought it was natural for us, since I never indicated anything, although I bowed under the insults inside. I began to believe her words."

Soundwave's optics were wide under his visor. Dear Primus had the mech in front of him been through an ordeal!

Prowl continued, "And in my believing her words, my job performance slipped a little. It gave her new ammunition. She criticised my work, saying it was my fault for whatever mech that died on the missions I planned, calling my battle computer a 'rusted out piece of scrap.' Cloudburst was particularly fond of calling out deficiencies in my appearance, saying I was plain and ugly, that I was dull, and if not for her, others would not notice me."

"Why did you stay with her?" Soundwave asked suddenly, wondering if he had said the right thing. Through his listening, it was the one question that had burned in his processor.

Canting his helm to the side, optics taking on a melancholy cast, the SIC replied quietly, "I had loved her. She was my first true love. You must understand that. It was the reason why I did stay so long. I was blind to her, and a lot she had kept hidden from me. And I think, deep down, I wanted to believe that the characteristics Cloudburst exhibited later in our relationship was a result of some personality glitch or similar explanation. It wasn't until I heard something from Cloudstrike that I changed my mind. This was just after I decided to halt Cloudburst's access to my funds."

* * *

><p><em>Rubbing the corners of his helm tiredly, Prowl entered the washrack, quickly washing and polishing as fast as he could before most of the next shift came in. He cursed softly as he realised he was too late, a small group of mechs coming in, so he stayed in his stall and prepared to wait them out. He didn't want anyone to see him.<em>

"_Oy Strike, that was one heck of a training session," a mech called out. _

_A deep, gravelly voice chuckled, "Yeah, but the look on Iron-afts face when I pinned 'im!"_

_Prowl felt something cold run down his spinal strut as the mechs laughed. That voice was so recognisable. It was the voice of Cloudstrike. _

"_Hey, heard some gossip around the ship – you guys know I'm new here, but is it your sister who's shacked up with the head of tactical, Strike? I heard he's like her little bitch," another mech said, clear over the noise of the showerheads. _

_Prowl stiffened upon hearing that. Is that…that what the whole crew thought of him? Maybe Cloudburst was right, that he was an ugly, no good excuse for a commander if his subordinates couldn't even respect him._

"_Oh yeah, Cloudburst's with Prowl, snookered him good. She just did it so classic! Mech walks into her office, asks her to help him out, and she agreed. She then researches, finds out the creds he makes as head of tact's, and goes the really nice so he'd like her. You know, she told me it was so hard being so sweet for so long? She told me if it wasn't for how good the tight-aft is in the berth, she'd have left him a long time ago. She dated him and moved in with him, and he gave her access to his account. Bingo!" laughed Cloudstrike loudly among the chuckles from the other mechs. _

"_Good in the berth, huh?" questioned another voice._

_Cloudstrike made a grunt-like sound and replied, "So she says. She may be right. That aft might be so tight his valve'll follow and be nice and ripe for poundin', eh fellas?"_

_More laughter._

_Prowl saw his vision blurring, bringing a hand to his face and realising that tears had trickled out of his optics. Little by little, his spark was breaking. Slowly, he slid down to the floor, hunching over in grief._

_Had he truly been used? No, Cloudburst had loved him, hadn't she? He loved her. Why?_

_As if hearing his unspoken question, a mech asked, "So your sister stayed with a mech, made him believe she loved him so she could get credits….and…what now?"_

"_Oh, she's tearing him apart. Cloud's really pissed now though, since he's cut her off from all his funds. She's being normal again. She's got a talent with the insults, she does. I think there's not one thing about him he's not targeted. But yeah, she's got some credits so she's happy. As for the Prowlie-bot? Pfft, I don't care. I wouldn't mind having her leftover's," guffawed the storm grey and blue mech._

_Prowl shook inside his stall. No…he had been used. He had been played about like a toy and then thrown back into some box now his use had expired. His spark was shattered. He had truly been in love, thought that one day he would bond to Cloudburst, and when the war was over, live in a re-made Praxus with a sparkling or two. He thought that she was 'The One,' before she changed. More coolant tears slid out of his optics, and out of his mouth slipped a sob._

"_Someone's in that stall!" a mech cried out._

_Prowl sat up, clapping his hands over his mouth. Footsteps were heard, and he saw the pedes. Panic gripped his spark as the door was ripped off to reveal Cloudstrike, a menacing leer on his faceplate. He backed away, but a large hand grabbed him by his collar and jerked him out to pin him against the opposite wall._

"_Lookie what we got here, it's the Prowlie-bot!" grinned Cloudstrike. Seeing his tears, a hand came up and mockingly caressed them. "Aw, little sparkling, didn't you know you were being used like a polish rag?"_

"_Let me go!" Prowl ground out, aiming a kick towards the mech's abdomen but missing as he jerked back. _

"_Ooh, got some fire! No, I don't think so. I think I'll have some fun with you," the larger mech murmured, tracing down his captive's faceplate. Prowl spat at him, getting him in the optic, which made him roar and press Prowl harder against the wall._

"_Strike, what are you doing, mech? He's an officer!" one of the three mechs that came in with Cloudstrike cried out in alarm._

_Cloudstrike glared at the other mechs and growled, "You were laughing about it not even a breem ago! I promise I'll let you have a turn once I'm done." Prowl struggled harder, hearing those words, but in vain, for he couldn't land a blow._

_Another mech piped up, "There's a difference! I mean…those were just words before, and they don't hurt no-one. I'm leaving. And so are the other two. Let's go, mechs."_

_Prowl stared desperately after them, unable to make a sound now as Cloudstrike had a hand around his neck and squeezing. Prowl hoped that those mechs would find it in their conscious to find someone and tell them what was going on. A puff of air wafted across his face as the mech pinning him snarled, "Wimps. All for me then."_

_The tactician writhed again, arching to try and break the hold so he could escape, but Cloudstrike merely held him there, grinning as he said, "You know that's just turning me on more? Oh, how I can't wait to take you. Bet you've never been done in your valve before, probably too prim and proper – bet you've only used your spike. I'm going to love this."_

_Prowl's processor stuttered. How could he have guessed that? He had been saving his valve until bonding, be it mech or femme he bonded to._

_Cloudstrike ran his free hand over Prowl's abdomen, tracing the red downwards arrow just above his panel. _

"_You know, my sister still says you're amazing in the berth. Let's see if it works for me, hmm?"_

_Prowl grunted and lashed out, getting the hand with his foot and denting it, causing the grey and blue mech to cry out in pain._

"_Little piece of slag! Fine, we start earlier, then," snarled the mech, and retracted his panel, his spike jutting up into the air. Prowl stared at it in horror, realising that Cloudstrike was completely serious about this. He whined as he felt the length get rubbed against his thigh. With a new determination in his optics, Prowl kicked out again, a sigh of relief escaping as he found his mark, the spike kicked upwards and dented from his kick. Cloudstrike roared in pain, dropping Prowl in favour of clutching his dented rod, cupping it and howling as energon trickled from the dent. A red fury was in front of the Praxian's optics as he attacked on instinct, delivering punishing blows to the mechs helm and abdomen until satisfied the mech was unconscious. Energon was everywhere. Prowl coughed a little and ran from the washrack, not even looking back._

_As he ran, more tears slipped out of his optics. _

_Betrayal._

_He had been betrayed and broken by the one he had loved more than life itself, because he had thought that she would be the first one to care for him just as he was. To accept him with his faults. But she had played him._

_What was the point of living anymore?_

_The Autobot cause didn't need him, his battle computer was obviously too old, and he kept sending mechs off to die. _

_He didn't know where he stopped, only that it was quiet, dark and there were no bots around. He couldn't even remember how he got here, only that he was here. _

_Out of his subspace he pulled a small, jewelled dagger, given to him as a gift by Cloudburst. _

_Looking at his reflection in the gleaming metal of the blade, Prowl couldn't say what he saw anymore. Only that it was not worth it. With trembling hands, he brought the dagger slashing through the energon lines in his arms, going brutally deep, biting his lips and tasting energon as he fought to keep from crying out. He brought the dagger up again, slashing across both shoulders before the grip on the dagger weakened and he dropped to the floor. Energon pooled around him and under his twitching sensory wings._

_Sighing, he felt the life leave him._

* * *

><p>Soundwave trembled slightly, making Prowl stop, realising that perhaps he had gotten too carried away with what happened. "Soundwave?" he asked cautiously.<p>

The visored mech said softly, if not a bit brokenly, "Keep going. I need to hear this, no matter my emotional state."

"If you are sure…"

"Affirmative."

With a sigh, Prowl continued, "I laid on that floor for a few breems before a mech came in. He's dead now, but his name was Tracker, Hound's mentor and teacher. I had not known I was in the scout's division. He called for help, and Ratchet was the one to heal me physically. He was the one who encouraged me to talk to Sentinel, and Optimus who was Sentinel's protégée. I eventually did and they tried both Cloudburst and Cloudstrike for treason against an officer and locked them both up."

Soundwave took a moment to think. If Prowl had gone through seemingly worse than he had, then surely he could get better as well. After all, Prowl was, to all intents and purposes, a very well functioning mech, and had been one of the Decepticon's biggest targets because of the stability he brought to the Autobot army.

"Sir…why are you telling me all this? Four days ago, I was your enemy," Soundwave asked, slightly confused about that fact.

The chevroned mech smirked and asked, "Soundwave, have you ever known me, as you being a Decepticon, to be a mech of non-action, even though I have a 'desk job'?"

"Negative."

"And that is exactly why. I am not going to sit by while some mech is hurting in a way I can associate with, and needs to know that you _can_ continue life after abuse. Regardless if you were my enemy, you have now pledged yourself to be an Autobot and a comrade, a colleague. I do all I can for those under my command. If I can help you, then so be it. I will open up about my past, as long as I see it operating within you to drive towards healing," Prowl answered, voice intense.

"It's not an easy journey, but with the right support, time flies by. Jazz was the one to heal me. It did not take a few days, weeks, or moths, but _vorns_. I hope it won't take that long for you to recover. It would be such a shame," the tactician continued, softening his tone.

Soundwave felt the sensation of being inspired again, and suddenly, he was very glad he changed faction. All those years of being a Decepticon were being washed away. The process was becoming almost alarmingly quick. He had more questions, but Prowl had given him so much time already. Standing up, he said gratefully, "Thank you sir. I am very glad you shared this with me."

"But you have more questions," Prowl suggested shrewdly.

"I do, but you have your duties and I have mine. And I would like some time to think," the standing mech replied in answer to the unspoken question.

The SIC bowed his chevron helm. "Of course. You know, it is such a pity you were not always an Autobot, Soundwave. Tactically, you are a great addition to our ranks. Upon impression, I find you to be an adaptable mech who tries to stay calm in any situation. That steadiness within me that your previous faction sought to extinguish I can see in you," he remarked carefully.

Soundwave felt the compliment warm his spark. Someone whom he had been fighting against for so long giving him this second chance so readily made him want to prove him right and make Blaster proud.

He left, closing up his mask to hide the small smile on his face.

Prowl watched him as he left. '_I do not think of you as a Decepticon anymore. I hope you overcome your demons, like I have overcome mine.'_

* * *

><p>Starscream entered the science lab where he had worked with Skyfire in the past day, grumbling to himself. The shuttle looked at the ex-Con jet, and blinked his optic shutters and asked, "Starscream…your wings…"<p>

"Yes, I have gotten rid of that ghastly purple insignia, it will no longer mar my paintjob, now let's get to work!" the Seeker snapped. He really didn't want to talk about it. He felt like a sparkling, going from content in one second to angry the next with temper tantrums. He winced as he caught Skyfire's wise gaze on him, and damn it if he didn't melt under that look. Sighing, Starscream crossed his arms over his cockpit and turned away, wings twitching.

"Starscream," Skyfire said softly, putting down the tools for the circuit board he was working on.

"Mmm?"

"You didn't tell me a lot yesterday," the larger mech said softly, wheeling his chair over to where Starscream stood, so that he was a little shorter than the defensive jet.

"I told you when it first happened," answered Starscream defiantly.

"Last night you had a bad night terror and I had to hold you for an hour to get you to go back into recharge. Don't tell me that's nothing, Star. You were trembling and whimpering, and-"

"Stop!" Starscream shrieked, whirling around to face his friend. "I don't need you pointing out how weak I am, when I'm trying to be strong!"

Gentle, larger hands gripped his upper arms and Skyfire's firm voice said, "You don't need to anymore. Primus, Star, I'm here to help! And that's not the way to heal. I know you are used to be neglected by everyone but your trine, but I'm _here_ and I'm not leaving."

"You can't promise that! I lost you once, and I can't lose you again!" Starscream yelled, anguish taking over his face. Skyfire was silent, optics appearing older, much older than they were at the statement. Angry tears building up, Starscream said, "You know, in my darkest hours, I would wish that Megatron did kill me, just so I'd see you again because I knew I'd be safe. And in worse times, I would _justify_ the fragger's actions towards me, thinking it was some sort of return for loosing you out in space!"

"There is no justification for such an act, Starscream," Skyfire growled, spark breaking. How could the smaller flier think that?

"I know, but I went through the Pit and back trying not to believe it. I feel pathetic and weak that I can't survive one day without a friend, you know that? I used to be ruler of the skies, and now I'm the ruler of 'come here and abuse me.' I hate losing the control, Skyfire," Starscream ranted, looking into his friend's lighter optics.

"You are not pathetic and weak! I will say it until you get sick and tired of me hearing it, you are not! You are a victim, and I know you might not like to hear it, but you are. You've been a victim for too long. I'm _willing_ to stand here and take anything you throw at me because I care!" Skyfire replied back in determination. He honestly was dedicated to helping Starscream – he had lived content life as an Autobot so far, but sometimes he had nothing to do. With Starscream back in his life, he now had a fullness (however bitterly gained) he had not had since he had crashed eons ago on Earth.

Starscream couldn't help it.

He began sobbing again upon hearing that spark-felt declaration of care, leaning forward to cry into Skyfire's chest. It felt like the countless time he had done it, fitting so perfectly under Skyfire's chin as those arms wrapped around him to draw him close. He clung onto the broad shoulders desperately, blubbering out what his dream had been about.

Skyfire listened as Starscream told him of the time that Megatron had taken him brutally in both mouth, valve, and then aft with no preparation so that he couldn't fly or walk straight for a week. The tyrant had also then made Starscream drink the spill from his valve, a combination of energon and other fluid. Skyfire hugged the smaller frame tighter, feeling rage boil furiously within. Megatron would pay. And pay dearly for what he'd done to the tricoloured jet.

"Please don't hate me Sky, for being so….so…defiled and used," Starscream whispered exhaustedly when he was done.

"Never, Star, never," the shuttle whispered, rocking slightly back and forth, letting the tears ride out. Again, his spark ached for the mech straddling him.

It all seemed so unfair.

"I'll protect you for as long as I'm online, Star…I'm here….you are safe," he mumbled assumingly.

"I know you are," Starscream replied brokenly, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. There was still so many weights there, but slowly, they would finally come off.

* * *

><p>Getting back to the comm. room, the telepath was confused and alarmed that his cassettes were missing. Blaster looked up and saw his body language and hurriedly said, "You're lil' guys have just gone with Jazz down to the sparring room. He said he's going to burn off their energy before they start pulling some pranks. Speaking of which, Jazz wanted me to ask you something."<p>

"Oh?" Soundwave asked, sitting down in his chair near his friend and opening his mask.

"Yeah. He was wondering if they could be part of his special ops team. Says they'd be dead useful because of their size and intelligence," Blaster answered, before answering a comm. from Smokescreen, who was on patrol, that nothing was happening.

The telepath thought it over. It _would_ give his creations more to do, and they had been basically the majority of the Decepticon's special ops while back on the _Nemesis_. In all technicality, he was special ops as well, but he much preferred the comms duty. Some may find it boring, but to him it was oddly soothing. It was why he was always so comfortable in his job. His reputation as a telepath more than actually torturing others – which he did little of – was what gave others the impression he was just as cruel as Megatron.

"Trial first. I'll see if they like it before anything else," he concluded.

"Awesome," grinned Blaster. Every time Soundwave made a decision, he felt glad. It showed he was having more certainty and control over himself. "So, how was the talk with Prowl?"

"Informative."

"Good?"

"Very inspiring. All my footage from the times my cassettes have infiltrated your bases never indicated that he inspires the mechs of your army in his own way," replied Soundwave, running his fingers idly over a keyboard. Blaster hummed, encouraging him to go on. "His story was…powerful to say the least," the visored mech mused, "and motivates me to be just as well adjusted as he is. I do have more questions, and he assures me we will talk tomorrow."

Blaster gave a brilliant, warm smile at Soundwave and said, "It's awesome you are trying so hard to get along and fit in here."

Another warm thrum settled over his spark, but he stayed silent in thought. He was trying hard, that much was true, but he still felt worthless and dirty. Granted, the sensation had lessened slightly, but it was still there. It was, in fact, what he had wanted to ask Prowl about. The navy mech was glad, at least, that he felt safe and at home with Blaster.

* * *

><p>Ramjet was shaking in nervousness before him, while Hook remained deceptively calm. Megatron let out a growl. Two days had gone by, and his replacement 2nd and 3rd in command were standing in front of him like they were waiting for slaughter. Obviously this was news he didn't want to hear.<p>

"Where are they?" he demanded.

"They are all with the Autobots, my lord. Reflector took some pictures of Soundwave on the top of their volcano with the Autobot communications officer, Blaster. As we have no other information on the Seeker trine, we assume they are there also," Hook replied calmly, although his stance indicated that he was ready to sprint from the room at the first instance of violence.

Megatron's optics narrowed. Growling deeply, he said, "Get out. Tomorrow night we attack – spread the word."

The flier and Constructicon left swiftly, and not a moment too soon. With a bellowing roar, Megatron punched a hole in the nearest wall before shooting at everything he could. His throne split and crumbled, chairs went flying, a computer console had a smoking hole in it, all the while he bellowed his rage.

"TRAITORS! I should rip your sparks out of your warm bodies and eat them whole! I'll wear your wings like jewellery, I'll keep your helms to pleasure me when you're dead, and I'll let your Autobot friends join you!" he ranted, discharging round after round from his fusion cannon in a deadly promise.

"And I'll start with Starscream," he vowed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Writing an insane Megatron is oddly fun. **

**MY LIVEJOURNAL IS NOT WORKING! *heddesk* It sucks, so I can't post this on there yet. **

**But I'd love reviews from everyone here! Just a reminder that this fic will be updated every week between Saturday and Monday from now on due to me going back to uni. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Some action in this one. You know my disclaimers, Primus knows I've said them religiously at the beginning of everything I post. I thought I'd show some other's of the Ark crew and then Megatron being beaten in battle. Thought that'd be fun.**

**Warnings: Some battle violence and a bit of bittersweet fluff.**

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 9<strong>

* * *

><p>The remainder of yesterday had been a bit boring for him, but at least his cassettes had fun going round after round with Jazz as he tested out their abilities. They had a preliminary agreement that his cassettes would split their time between special ops duties and comms, although they would be performing less of comms than spec ops.<p>

Soundwave felt himself get restless as he woke up.

There was an odd sort of itch within his processor. It wasn't something he felt at all often.

A need for violence.

Every now and then, he would need to let off some steam. Otherwise, he would usually be tempted to mentally lash out at whatever mech was nearest and prove to them just _why _he should be feared. He didn't like the odd, very rare urge. It was not part of a higher functioning individual and was reserved for brutes like Motormaster and Vortex. He let his chest compartment spring open, his cassettes ejecting and stretching languidly. They knew the mood he was in and they headed for the living room to receive their morning energon.

Blaster was already there, drinking his own ration as Soundwave came in.

"Recharge well?" he asked with a smile.

"Affirmative. Query: May we use weapons range?" Soundwave asked briskly, burying the memory flux from last night that _still _made him want to purge his tanks.

Blaster frowned a little and replied, "Well sure, but you-?"

"Affirmative," the blue mech cut off the other mech's concern, retrieving his energon from the dispenser, taking a moment to retract his mask and scull the contents before looking at his bewildered friend in expectation.

Blaster wasn't sure if he liked the burning determination in that visor. He was reminded, all of a sudden, of all the battles they had against each other. He stilled the shiver he wanted to release. In his vulnerable state, it had been so easy to forget how utterly graceful and dangerous the telepath was. Standing up, he nodded, beckoning to the visored mech and leading him to the firing range. Most of the mechs were up, but thankfully, none were in the firing range.

Looking to Soundwave, the boom box asked, "Around what level do you want the range to be set at?"

Pulling his little used rifle out of his subspace, Soundwave replied in his trademark monotone, "Medium-high."

Blaster frowned, but set it, and stepped back, watching Soundwave load the rifle with swift accuracy.

Soundwave felt the world melt away, the darkest part of him, hidden away in the furthest reaches of his spark, coming closer to the forefront with a raging hunger. He knew the trigger. His anger at his abuser. His fear for his creations tempered the urge to storm the _Nemesis_ by himself and kill the mech, but still, he was angry for this act being done on him. Feeling the smooth barrel of the rifle and taking his stance, bringing it up, the telepath felt soothed by the action. He was in control of this, controlling what direction it went, and how many shots were fired.

He was ready, spark pulsing in anticipation for the first range drone.

It leapt out.

Soundwave tightened his finger on the trigger, hitting it with unerring accuracy, a smirk touching his lips as wave after wave of holograms and drones leapt out and he aimed and fired, relishing in the pure feeling of _control_. He was the master of the rifle in his hands, not someone else being the master over him.

Blaster watched, optics wide.

He really, really shouldn't have been looking at the shooting mech and thinking it was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. The powerful stance, the easy way of firing – the subtle attractiveness of it all was enough to make him want to moan.

'_No! Bad, Blast-man, bad! If you ever come on to him anytime soon, he's going to freak,'_ Blaster admonished himself.

Soundwave kept aiming, kept firing, until the sequence ended and he dropped the gun down towards the ground.

He didn't realise he had been crying silently until he had finished.

"New recruit: score – 687/700. Rank: Equal 3rd with Autobot Mirage," a cool, computerised voice announced from the speakers.

"Slag, 'Wave, that's awesome! You're only just behind Bluestreak, Prowl, and Mirage. Nice job," Blaster complimented encouragingly, walking nearer to the navy mech, but another frown shadowed his face. Soundwave was shaking. Looking between the blank, lost look in the visor and the dropped, smoking gun, Blaster internally sighed. The poor mech.

Soundwave cursed himself.

Crying again.

At least he could say the reason with clear certainty. A part of him died just then. The violent urge he had to decimate his opponents usually built with his shooting practice. Suddenly, in the middle of the session that he had just completed, it left. Without any warning, he had been set free. Such an event had never happened. It made him feel off balance. It made him feel…good. He didn't need the rigid control over the rifle. What he needed was the expression of that rage to chase away the violence.

It was gone.

It was a stunning realisation – he was free.

Retracting his mask, the telepath turned to Blaster and whispered, "I'm free."

The red mech was about to spout some words of comfort but halted as Soundwave made that pronouncement. A melancholy sort of smile stretched his lips as he replied, "You are. Feels amazing, doesn't it?"

Soundwave took a moment to bask in the feeling. Free. Had he ever felt truly free, even as a Decepticon? He had never been free of the uncontrollable rage that resided in a deep, wicked part of him since his youngling days? For it to suddenly disappear to be replaced by a different type of anger. An anger that he could _control_, not be controlled by. That was the freedom he was given. After the past few days of not feeling like he could be in control ever again, he was given this small gift of freedom.

"I feel stronger," Soundwave acknowledged in reply quietly.

The smiling mech couldn't resist, and a sound clip of Kanye West's '_Stronger'_ played for a few seconds. Soundwave quirked his lips up in amusement, picking up his rifle and stowing it back in subspace. He hoped he wouldn't need it anytime soon.

"Listen, since I never got to finish our ration, and I'm sure you're wanting yours, do ya terribly mind if we go to the rec? Besides, I think it'd be a good thing to test the waters a bit. Autobot's ain't gonna wanna know ya if you remain in the shadows if you get what I mean," explained Blaster. He waited patiently for the answer. He knew that he would follow Soundwave back to his quarters if the telepath said so – he wouldn't push – but also knew on the flipside that if the other mech could survive a little while in the rec room, he'd feel a lot more comfortable with the idea of becoming a fully-fledged Autobot.

Thinking it over, Soundwave had to admit that such an event was inevitable, and that he might as well start now. He inclined his helm, and replied, "You are right. Let's go, but one thing…"

Blaster heard the hesitancy and asked kindly, "Yeah, Wave?"

The visor looked dead on into blue optics as he said in a small voice, "Protect me."

"Always," affirmed the red and yellow mech, moving forward and giving his friend a momentary squeeze around the shoulders before stepping out of the shooting range and heading towards the rec-room. He turned and gave the telepath a reassuring smile. Soundwave gave a fleeting one back before closing his mask. He didn't feel comfortable going into a room with his once enemies without his mask shut firmly over his lower face.

Blaster glided up to the doors and pushed them open before walking in and waving to the mechs who greeted him. He got not even five steps into the room when his companion entered and everything stopped.

And silence reigned.

The boom box fought the urge to turn and look at Soundwave. He had to let his friend decide if he was able to handle it on his own. He merely strode forward to his usual booth – which was thankfully empty, and sat down. He kept his optics averted to his lap, although in his processor he ran an encouraging mantra again and again. He hoped no one would call or jeer.

A weight sliding in next to him made Blaster sigh in relief. His spark pulsed happily for Soundwave for the will to walk past those accusing stares. At last, he looked up and grinned at the blue ex-Con. He was sure Soundwave had sent him a small smile back by the light in his visor.

Most of the Autobots seemed to adjust quickly, Hound almost immediately going back to his conversation with Mirage and Trailbreaker, and Bumblebee happily competing with the oddly silent twins as they played a video game. Equilibrium returned to the room, halted only by the hostile aura emanating from Cliffjumper and his table of the more war-ready minibots. Blaster noted the glares and whispered, "Don't mind them, 'Wave. They've been ordered to be nice."

Soundwave wouldn't admit that he felt even more fear for his cassettes now. He was reminded that he not only had an enemy in Megatron, but from some of the more vengeful Autobots. He would have to keep an optic on all creations, not matter what the cost to him. He nodded, anyway.

Blaster, content that Soundwave was comfortable enough, got up and retrieved them cubes of energon.

Meanwhile, Prowl entered the room, calmly reading a datapad as he walked. Momentarily, he glanced up to see Soundwave sitting in Blaster's usual booth, the latter mech up and getting two cubes of energon from the dispenser. The Praxian frowned when he saw the looks Cliffjumper and some other minibots were throwing Soundwave's way. He would have to address that later. Knowing his presence would be accepted, if not welcomed, Prowl changed course and went and sat opposite Soundwave.

Soundwave straightened and stated, "Greetings, sir."

"Good morning to you as well, Soundwave. How are you feeling after our talk yesterday?" the black and white inquired, watching carefully for any contrary body language to the answer.

"Emotions: encouraged, inspired, understood," Soundwave replied, mask modulating his tone as always.

"But you still have questions?" asked Prowl, nodding to Blaster as the comm. officer sat down next to Soundwave, energon in hand.

"Affirmative, sir," answered the ex-Con. He knew what the SIC was getting at, but it meant taking off his mask here in public to ask the questions now in their secluded booth. At least Blaster was here. The solid support next to him bolstered him.

The tactician canted his helm to the side and made an encouraging noise. This was all the free time he had today, and this was its most effective use.

Blaster felt the undercurrent of wariness as his friend slowly retracted his mask. Soundwave took a second to see not one Autobot had noticed before he asked, "Prowl, after the time of you abuse, did you ever feel…dirty? Used goods…so to speak."

Prowl nodded, gleam of understanding dawning in his optics as he realised what Soundwave really wanted to know. "Yes. I felt that. Perhaps," he lowered his voice so only those in the booth could hear, "less so than you, but I can understand it. You feel as if anyone who looks at you can be infected and tainted, and you shy away from all but those you trust. You don't want anyone to touch you. And most of all, you begin to believe it about yourself," he stated.

Soundwave stared in shock.

It was a succinct summary of what he was feeling every morning. He pushed past it, but it was there. He wasn't sure of that feeling of violation would fade. Before he could stop himself, the next question he asked was, "Does that feeling ever fade?"

"Yes. With time, healing, and support," Prowl replied, nodding at Blaster who was trying to be neutral and simply listen.

Soundwave looked at his friend, the friend who had accepted him back unconditionally, and took his hand and squeezed it gratefully. He turned back to the tactician, visor flashing inquisitively.

"How did you learn to get past what happened to you?"

Prowl looked thoughtful, choosing his words carefully before he spoke. "It's not about pushing the event into the back of your processor. It's about accepting it as _having_ happened and acknowledging that, while you cannot change the past, you can do your best to have a bright and happy future. It's horrific to have been abused. Once we move past the fact that we can't change what happened, we can heal. When we heal, we can open up to trust again and so goes the cycle of healing and trusting. If we close up, become in denial, think we are not worthy of living, then the abuser has won. If we learn to live again, we have earned our victory."

Blaster and Soundwave turned the words over and over. Soundwave saw the true wisdom in those words, and he vowed to himself to remember them when he was feeling like the lowest piece of slag in the universe.

Blaster still stayed silent, letting Soundwave have the control. He was truly content to listen to the back and forth of questions and answers.

"Is that how you healed?" Soundwave leaned forward, voice just as quiet as Prowl's had been.

"The mantra did help, but I had Jazz. He was the one to tell me that, and it was like the key to my hurt had been unlocked and I was able to _finally_ fix from the years of abuse I suffered." Prowl quickly checked his chronometer, finding he would have to leave soon. Telling the telepath about how Jazz helped him would have to wait for another time. Standing up, he said, "Unfortunately, duty calls. However, I do have another free hour tomorrow morning, if that is what you'd like to hear about."

Soundwave did feel slightly disappointed, but couldn't say he didn't understand. Nodding, he said, "I'll take that offer. Again, you have my thanks."

"And you my understanding."

* * *

><p>Thundercracker crossed his arms and stared stubbornly at his lover.<p>

"No, Skywarp."

"Ooh, resorting to my full name? Desperate then," teased the black and purple Seeker, reaching out to tug at Thundercracker's crossed arms. "Besides, Prime said it'd be good for us to go out and make the crew chill around us. Remember that talk he gave us yesterday?"

"I can't remember, no," refuted the blue Seeker, although the memory of each word had been carefully saved into his databank.

Skywarp huffed and pouted, "Please? Even if we can't go out and fly yet, then let's just get out of this room! As nice at it is, I'm feeling claustrophobic. You can't deny you feel the same."

Thundercracker didn't deny it, but he had gotten too comfortable in his surroundings. For the past few days, all he had done was lie with his lover and talk. Talk about their insecurities, their fears, gone deep on a level they had never dared to go before. With their changed circumstances, they felt more secure, more certain, more able to express the so called 'weak' feelings of love. Slowly, ever so slowly, Skywarp had gotten used to the blue Seeker touching him, especially his lips, and had even gotten the courage to touch his lover back and kiss TC's face. He had not progressed to connecting their mouths, but Skywarp found that, given the rate of his recovery, he would be doing that someday soon.

"Warp…"

"Please? We can even freak out the Autobot's while we are at it!" pleaded the teleporter, batting his optics at the blue jet.

Thundercracker melted under the warm ruby gaze. Heaving a harsh sigh, he huffed "Oh all right. Let's go to the rec-room."

Skywarp grinned and warped behind his lover to hug him tightly from behind in thanks, before taking a hand and warping them out of their room…

…and straight into the middle of the Autobot's rec-room.

"What the!"

"Holy slag!"

"-give us a spark attack!"

"We almost fired…"

"Skywarp, Thundercracker, here please," Prowl called over the din of voices calling out at the two jets that had just appeared in front of them. Prowl was over by the door, obviously on his way out of the room.

Skywarp let go of his lover, teasingly brushing a wing, and strutted towards the SIC with a smirk, trinemate following with a sigh and a shake of his helm. They ignored the disgruntled grumbling coming from the bots around them and stood at attention before their new second in command.

Optic ridge raised, Prowl reprimanded, "Please don't tempt the itchy trigger fingers of some of the Autobots. I would hate Ratchet to put a wrench through your helms for that moment of idiocy especially after he has newly repaired you, as would I hate to punish you if such an incident occurs again. Skywarp, no more warping through the Ark unless an emergency, and Thundercracker, try not to go along with his schemes. Dismissed."

"Yes sir," both jet's replied, although Skywarp was still smirking.

'_Why do I have a feeling that sooner or later he and Sideswipe will terrorise everyone with pranks?'_ the Praxian mech thought as he walked back to his office.

Turning back to the general rec-room, Skywarp said loudly, "Nice to meet you on the friendly side guys! Let me introduce myself. I'm Skywarp, teleporter extraordinaire, and this is Thundercracker, biggest sonic booms in the galaxy!"

Thundercracker facepalmed.

A great deal of the Autobots looked at each other warily, caught between laughing and a feeling of oddness. Wheeljack, being one of the more easy going Autobots, raised an arm and waved jokingly back, prompting Skywarp to walk up to the engineer with a dramatic flourish and proclaim, "Why, kind mech, you listen to the great introductions! You shall be noted and given a year full of 'no-pranks-being-performed-on-you.'

Wheeljack chuckled at the Seeker's attitude as he flounced away. Skywarp was kind of funny.

Cliffjumper, Huffer, Gears and Powerglide were glaring from their table, as was Tracks from a different section from the room. After that, the mechs in the rec-room did the same thing as they did to Soundwave; they left Thundercracker and Skywarp alone in favour of their own conversations.

Thundercracker had gone to Blaster and Soundwave's booth, sitting opposite to the two communications mechs, waiting for his wayward lover to join them.

"Is Skywarp usually like this?" Blaster asked, grinning as he watched Skywarp walk from Wheeljack to their own table.

"Yes," groaned Thundercracker, tempted to growl as Skywarp slid in next to him and tried to bury himself in Thundercracker's side.

"Skywarp: chief prankster on the _Nemesis_," Soundwave stated, but a hint of a smirk played around his face.

Thundercracker and Skywarp gasped as they realised that, for the first time ever, they were seeing Soundwave without his mask. Skywarp opened his mouth to yell it out, but found his mouth covered by Thundercracker's hand. He made a muffled sound in protest, but saw the telepath look uncomfortable and realised what an idiot he was going to be if he had done what he had planned to do. Instead, as the blue Seeker took away the hand, he leaned forward and said in a stage whisper, "Good to see you without a mask Soundwave. You're a looker under that mask."

Soundwave would have blushed, but merely nodded.

Blaster, however, giggled, "You shoulda seen him when he was younger! If it wasn't for the fact that Soundwave wasn't interested, he'd have at least four femmes or mechs lined up at his door!"

The ex-Con shot his friend a warning look, but decided that the comment was worth the jaw-dropped expressions on the Seeker's faces. It was really quite comical. He half-wondered if he should take a picture of it.

Blaster snickered at the expressions, before Thundercracker caught himself and sat up straight, closing his mouth and pretending that he had been unaffected.

Skywarp however, would never get that comment out of his processor.

"TC…I think I need bleach."

And for the first time in a while, all three ex-Con's all laughed quietly.

Blaster looked on with a grin. At least they were making themselves feel at home.

* * *

><p>"Grah! Damnit Zee, not the antennas!"<p>

"Oy, ya wanna spar or ya wanna talk?" the red and black cassette twin grumbled, ducking underneath the punch from Eject. He and his twin, and Blaster's set of cassette twins were all having a spar while their creators were in the rec-room. Soundwave's cassettes, like their creator, had gotten restless, and Blaster's had offered to get it out of their systems.

Over in the corner, Ratbat, Buzzsaw and Laserbeak all went up against Ravage, Steeljaw and Ramhorn.

They had been at it for some time. Some of the rounds they played it serious, while others it was just a fun tumble around, just a bit of roughhousing. This was one of the fun rounds.

Ravage finally got Ratbat on the ground and began to tickle his youngest sibling mercilessly. Hearing the little mech's giggles was such a rarity, and such a treasure to be held.

They had never had this freedom to act their young age back on the warship with the Decepticons. Their small stature made them ample targets enough as it was without being all cuddly with each other whenever they wanted to be, and it had been a struggle especially for Ratbat, who was far more tactile than any of Soundwave's creations. Ravage reflected that it was a good thing they'd changed factions, regardless of how odd it was, how hard it was, and how they were slowly learning to treat them differently other than 'enemy.' Because it was all worth it to see Ratbat laugh and for Rumble and Frenzy to be not as psycho.

"Pile on!" Frenzy called.

Ravage barely had a moment to widen his optics as his siblings and Blaster's creations all piled on top of him and Ratbat, most of them giggling madly at the undignified position.

Fun had been another thing that had been a rarity.

Not the satisfaction of a mission done or injuring their opposition.

But pure, joyous fun.

Ravage had a feeling that this next period of their lives was going to be full of emotional healing and more than fun to last him a lifetime.

* * *

><p>Starscream stared at the wall in front of him.<p>

To put it simply, his recharge had sucked. Which is why he was still in the berth in the middle of the day.

Nightmares and memories had plagued him from the moment, it seemed, since his helm hit the pillow. If it hadn't have been for Skyfire, he wouldn't got one iota of rest. The mech had stayed with him the whole night, comforting him, getting him to open up, holding him with promises of safety issuing forth from his lips.

Never had he felt so cared for.

Yet, he still felt worthless. He let the abuse happen to him. Although Skyfire kept telling him that he was strong, he couldn't see how. He had waited like a coward for the abuse to stop instead of leaving the Decepticons earlier and leaving them to flounder in his wake. His loyalty to his trine and his innate protectiveness over other fliers had prevented him. Starscream was torn. He stayed for a good reason, but still…sighing, he shuttered his optics as if to stop any more thoughts.

Footsteps signalled Skyfire's return.

He felt it as the shuttle sat behind him.

"Recharging, hmm, Star?" the soft voice asked.

The tricoloured mech was about to reply when a tender hand stroked over his helm.

"Good. You need it," Skyfire went on.

Starscream stayed silent. He thought that breaking the silence at this point would be way too awkward. Instead, he continued to pretend to sleep.

Skyfire proved to be willing to talk to the recharging figure and he leaned back against the headboard of his wide berth and murmured, "You know, I'm going to tell you something. I know you're in recharge which is why I'm saying it really. I don't think you're ready for what I am going to say. That, and I don't know if you feel the same."

Starscream wanted to frown, but kept still. What was Skyfire talking about?

"I have so many regrets, Star," the shuttle continued blithely, still stroking over the Seeker helm. "I regret not truly living my life before the war started, burying my helm in datapad after datapad in my attempt to be the best scientist. If there had been no war, perhaps I wouldn't have such a regret. Those times with you that I went exploring I don't have doubts on. I guess it's what I didn't do."

What? The ex-Con Air Commander wanted to ask. His friend wasn't making sense.

The larger mech chuckled, "And to think of all the time we'd had if I had the bolts. I think it's the longest time I've ever had a crush on someone, really. First time I really fell in love. I think it was after the expedition to that planet that was made of that really hard crystal that I was going to officially ask to court you. I went to ask you, and there you were in the lab, just looking so perfect, so youthful, so beautiful. Poised in the perfect position over the Petri dish, examining the samples with such a mask of perfect concentration. But I didn't do it. Because you looked at me with those lovely crimson optics of yours and I faltered. You were perfect – and I thought too perfect for me."

The smaller jet stiffened, but Skyfire didn't notice.

"I regret it now. Would you have left Megatron earlier if you had known I loved you? That I still love you? I regret not coming to your aid sooner. I still think that you are strong, my love, far stronger than a coward like me whose one chance at happiness may have floated away on the winds of time because of his uncertainty," Skyfire whispered to the room bitterly, a single tear falling from an optic.

He then chuckled and mentioned, as if he had forgotten an important detail, "There was always this poem I wanted to read to you. I might as well practice now."

"I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz  
>or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:<br>I love you as certain dark things are loved,  
>secretly, between the shadow and the soul.<p>

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries  
>hidden within itself the light of those flowers,<br>and thanks to your love, darkly in my body  
>lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.<p>

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,  
>I love you simply, without problems or pride:<br>I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

But this, in which there is no I or you,  
>so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,<br>so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close," he finished softly. He seemed lost for words after reading out the poem, and with a sigh, he rose and said, "Recharge well, Star."

He left.

Only when he was sure that Skyfire had left did Starscream open his optics and cry silently.

Skyfire loved him? Loved him for all this time? Curling in towards himself, Starscream felt tears flow out more. How horribly he had treated the mech when they had met for the first time in eons. How hurt Skyfire must have felt.

Starscream didn't doubt what the shuttle had said. The tone, the sheer emotional undercurrent in those softly spoken words wormed their way into his spark. He was loved. He, screechy, whiny, backstabbing, abused Starscream, was loved.

And that poem!

It had been beautiful, pure and simple.

For the first time in a long, long time, the Seeker felt a warm glow settle over his spark, and although he was in anguish, he felt loved and cared and wanted so much it hurt. The beautiful words…Skyfire thought he was perfect just as he was, thought he was _worth_ waiting for.

Even though Skyfire loved him, he had hidden it for his healing.

Starscream vowed that as soon as he was healed that he was going to go and tell Skyfire…

…that he loved him too.

* * *

><p>It had been a good day in the rec-room.<p>

Until the Decepticon klaxon rang throughout the halls of the Ark, alerting every mech that the Decepticons were coming.

Immediately, Soundwave, Thundercracker and Skywarp all froze at the sound, mechs on the Ark instantaneously leaving the rec and heading out as they were ordered by their commanders. However, a spiteful Gears called out as he left, "It's only because of those Decepticons that that Megatron's coming!"

Blaster had growled at the mini, turning to the frozen mechs and encouraging them up.

"Come on, we'll get Starscream and all go to my quarters. They're some of the safest of the Ark because I have my creations and all," the boom box explained, taking Soundwave by the arm, feeling guilty for the slight flinch, but heading with determined strides towards his quarters. The two Seekers followed, Thundercracker laying a protective hand between Skywarp's wings as they went to reassure his lover. The teleporter took a moment to shoot a smile at TC before following the two cassette players.

Skyfire caught up with them, carrying a shaking and wide-opticed Starscream.

"He's gone into shock," Skyfire called over the din of the alarm, more mechs pushing past their group on their way to the entrance of the Ark.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of him," assured Thundercracker, taking Starscream from the shuttle, who departed as they reached Blaster's quarters.

Without missing a beat, Blaster called his cassettes to him and ordered, "None of you are to open this door, at all, unless staying in this room is a threat to your lives, ok? I'll come back as soon as the battle is over. I won't be in it, Prime wants me on comms." '_And not trying to murder Megatron,"_ Blaster added to himself.

Receiving nods, he turned to Soundwave, seeing uncertainty and fear in that crystal red visor. "You're strong enough to protect your guys if something _does_ happen, 'kay?" he comforted, patting his friend on the shoulder before leaving and placing the door lock on the highest level of encryption.

Running back through to the comm. room, just off from the command centre, Blaster prayed, vindictively, that Megatron went away from this battle with more than a dent or two.

* * *

><p>In Blaster's quarters, it was awkwardly quiet. Starscream was seated in between his trinemates on the large couch, clicking to them in Seeker talk as they polished him in their version of comfort.<p>

Soundwave was in his berthroom, cassettes around him, simply letting them talk and joining in on the conversation every now and again.

Truth be told, he was more frightened that Megatron would somehow find his way here to destroy his cassettes more than anything else. He would use his telepathy, but Megatron would see that coming in such a situation and would extinguish a creation before he had the chance to. That fusion cannon was lighting quick.

To distract himself, he played some music from his older archives. He opened the folder in his memory bank with all the music that he and Blaster had loved when they were younger, and the music that they had composed. The first song to come up was the lullaby that the other cassette player had sung to him on his first night in the Ark.

"Hey, that's kinda cool, Boss. Who's that by?" Rumble asked, leaning against his twin.

"Myself and Blaster," the blue mech replied with a slight smile.

"Really? That's actually really nice for a slower song," Ratbat said.

Ravage snorted, "You should have heard some of the more ridiculous drivel they listened to at times."

"Acapella is not drivel," retorted the comm. mech.

"Sure, whatever you say. Everything sounds better with a beat," Ravage stated, opinion firmly set since the days he had lived with his creator and Blaster.

As Laserbeak asked Ravage a question in challenge, Soundwave had to admit, it did really distract him. Hopefully, the Decepticons would be defeated in no time. After all, they had neither his plans or Starscream's weapons and trine.

* * *

><p>Skyfire circled the battlefield high above, tramping down his rage with great difficulty.<p>

There was Megatron, smirking as he battled their Prime, with barely a scratch on him.

Then again, that may be because all three of the Decepticon gestalts had formed and so the Autobots were quite distracted from the warlord. Taking on Devastator, Bruticus and Menasor with the addition of all other Decepticons was quite a challenge.

Skyfire bided his time. This battle was not going to end without him making a mark on the grey tormentor.

At least he was glad to see that some of the Autobots in the know were fighting their damndest.

Optimus was fighting with a determination that had not been present in battle for some time. Just as Megatron had not had a scratch, neither did he.

Prowl and Jazz seemed to work seamlessly as a team. Their plans and knowledge were utilized to their best and each hit was made with accuracy. It was because of them that the all flying enemies were now tied in a bundle on the ground. The twins and Ironhide were throwing themselves into slagging as many Decepticons as they could. And Ratchet…well, if Skyfire wasn't so incensed he would have laughed. The medic was yelling a loud stream of curses as he threw spare wrenches this way and that.

As Devastator broke apart into its separate mechs, Skyfire actually did chuckle as Ratchet threw a wrench, sending it spinning through the air to land in the middle of Hook's helm, the new SIC of the Con army falling offline with a thump, a large dent in his helm from the hit.

Unfortunately, it drew the attention of Optimus, his attention distracted enough for Megatron to punch him back twenty feet away.

That was his chance.

Cutting his engines, the large flier allowed himself to freefall, waiting for the moment to cut on his thrusters so slow down just enough…

There!

He ignited his thrusters to control the last of his descent, transforming as he did so, a feral gleam in his usually calm optics as Megatron looked up and saw him.

With a crunch of metal, he landed on the warlord, sending him face planting into the dirt. Skyfire barely gave him a minute before he picked up the struggling smaller mech and landing a good, solid punch in the once smarmy faceplates. Megatron growled, but he brought the pointed face up and growled, "That was for me."

Then, with a mighty heave, he threw Megatron facedown into the dirt with such force that his face got squashed in.

"And that is for Starscream," Skyfire whispered, voice more deadly than Megatron had ever heard.

"Decepticons! RETREAT!" Megatron yelled, the sound garbled through his damaged face. He was sure he also had a fracture in one of his back struts.

Skyfire sneered at the grey mech as he scrambled and flew away. He had been so very tempted to take away the life of the Decepticon leader, but knew it would have been empty and hollow if he did. Besides, it was not his place. Feeling his leader and Prime come next to him, he was not surprised when the blue and red mech stated, "Remind me never to frag you off that badly, Skyfire."

The shuttle let out a mirthless chuckle. "No, I reserve that for the abusing sack of slag that just left."

Optimus nodded. "Let's go back to base. I'm sure Starscream will be glad to hear what you did."

* * *

><p>Blaster saved the video of Skyfire giving Megatron a swift aft-pounding and placed it on a datapad. He had to show Starscream. It might not be the best thing for him right now, but he needed to see. He left the running of the comms centre to his cassettes and headed for his quarters, typing in his code and heading in, only to see three sets of null rays pointed at him.<p>

"Oh, it's you Blaster," Skywarp said mildly, placing his nullrays down, like his trinemates. Soundwave and his cassettes looked out from his room and sauntered out.

"Starscream…I want you to see something, but if you feel uncomfortable with it, turn it off," the red mech instructed, handing the datapad to the tricoloured jet.

Starscream took it without a word and turned it on, watching silently as it replayed the action filled scene of Skyfire slamming Megatron into the Earth, punching him, and the spear tackling him onto the ground. He replayed it again for his trine and Soundwave. Skywarp and the cassettes cheered when they saw Megatron retreat, while Thundercracker and Soundwave merely smirked.

Starscream, however, remained calm and silent.

There was a noise at the door.

Standing there in all unassuming mechliness, some of his enemy's energon on his frame, was Skyfire.

"Starscream?" he asked carefully as an intense crimson gaze was turned on him.

Starscream stood up, walked slowly up to the mech who was looking after him with the patience of a saint and whispered quietly, "Thank you."

And jumped up to sling his arms around the larger mech's neck and hold him tight, wrapping his legs around Skyfire's waist to keep him there, embracing him for all that he was worth, inputting as much gratitude as he could. Skyfire looked stunned for a second, before holding Starscream just as close and whispering assurances and more words of comfort in his audio. The Seeker merely clutched tighter, burying his helm in a broad shoulder, not caring who saw.

Skyfire patted Starscream's wings, nodding to the mechs in Blaster's living room before leaving for his own quarters.

"Wow…" muttered Skywarp.

"You can say that again," said the blue jet.

"Wow," the black and purple jet repeated, earning him a light cuff over the helm from his lover. Farewelling the two comm. officers, they left for their own guest quarters, paying no heed to any Autobot who stared at them.

"Well…" murmured Blaster, turning to Soundwave, who merely said, "Too much excitement in one day, I think. I believe I will be recharging when you get back."

Blaster winked and replied, "Okay. I'll check on you. That all right?"

"Always."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I promise to deliver a chapter each Monday, so here it is. I hope you liked it. Please…REVIEW! I'd love to hear what you thought of that. Next Monday: Will Soundwave have another nightmare?**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This chapter is short because I really just wanted to have Blaster and Soundwave talking. There is a bit at the end with Prowl and Jazz though, just for a bit of fluff. Hope you like it. The next one is a bit more light-hearted. You all know I don't own Transformers, as they belong to Hasbro.**

**WARNING: Brief sexual abuse. Like, you might want to skip the part where it goes: **_**Settling them on his lap facing each other**_** to the part where it gets out of italics. There is no penetration, but to be safe I'm warning**_**. **_**Please, consider yourself warned. **

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 10<strong>

* * *

><p><em>He was running again. He always seemed to be running in his recharge dreams now. Sometimes he just kept running and nothing else happened. <em>

_This was not going to be one of those dreams._

_There was a door. _

_He opened it._

_Megatron was sitting on his throne, and all he could see of him was red optics and a menacing smile._

"_Soundwave…so nice of you to join me."_

_The telepath growled, and prepared for a devastating mental attack, when his ex-leader snarled and the lights flooded the room they were in._

_Soundwave stopped cold._

_In Megatron's clenched fist lay the ends of six chains. Each chain led to a collar. And there were six collars, all tied around each of his creation's neck as they lay on the floor by the throne. Laserbeak and Buzzsaw served as footrests for the warlord, while the others lay around with hopeless, glazed optics._

_Horror filled him as he gazed upon his creations. Buzzsaw gave a miserable caw and received a heavy press to his back under the bulky pede._

"_How dare you!" hissed Soundwave, stepping forward to fight, but becoming frozen in place, like his legs had become encased in a thick, unmovable substance. _

"_No, my traitorous telepath. How dare _you_ to try and use your telepathy on me. I. Am. MEGATRON! You pathetic piece of scrap. I warned you your little pests would pay the price, and now they are, all thanks to you," replied the gunformer, chuckling darkly. _

"_NO!" Soundwave cried out, anguished, and struggled, but couldn't move. _

_Dread filled him. It was his fault. Megatron was right, and he could do nothing but watch on, coolant tears pooling at the corners as his optics._

_Jerking two of the chains, Megatron hauled up the twins, who dangled, limp, by their necks. Settling them on his lap facing each other, he hit them over the back of their helms and cooed in a sickening voice, "Time to obey, pets. Time to prepare your master."_

_Smirking at the dark blue telepath, the Decepticon leader opened his interface panel, letting his spike rise in between Rumble and Frenzy's faces. They gazed dully at it, unmoving. Soundwave wailed, garnering an irritated look from Megatron, who then brutally smashed the front of the twins helms together. They seemed to wake up slightly and leaned forward to lick at the head of the spike. They seemed to be either hypnotised or their spirits so broken that they obeyed. Behind his visor, Soundwave cried for his cassettes. His fault. All his fault. _

_Megatron looked at the two little bots trying to service him, both dutifully licking up and down his spike. But he wanted more. He wanted a valve wrapped around him, and he knew which one he wanted to break._

_Tugging on another chain, the grey mech brought Ratbat up, who had a metal plate fixed over his mouth and who's optics were wide with fear. _

_Soundwave finally lost his energon and purged, the sound of it splattering on the tiles of the floor echoing. _

_Megatron laughed, "Just remember this is all your fault, Soundwave. And because of that, I'm going to take your youngest creations seals!"_

"_NO!"_

"NOOOO!"

"Wave! Wave, please, wake up!"

Optics coming online with a fierce crackle, voice hoarse from yelling, Soundwave leapt up, half-delirious and shaking, and whispered, "My cassettes?"

Blaster placed his hands in front of him and pointed down to the berth.

There, optics wide, were his cassettes, looking up at him in concern.

Soundwave still shook but heaved a sigh of relief. They were here and undamaged. They were safe. Kneeling down, he hugged each individually, and they didn't question it. They knew that he was feeling ashamed and vulnerable right now. They felt the wetness on his cheeks and knew he had sobbed in his sleep.

"Bad flux?" Blaster asked kindly.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Soundwave replied hoarsely. With regret, he used his telepathy to lull his cassettes back into recharge. He knew he should talk about it, but that would mean leaving his cassettes alone in order for he to talk with his friend privately.

"I'll call Steelie in here if you're worried."

"It would be welcome," replied the telepath in relief.

Not a moment later Steeljaw sauntered in, taking his post at the foot of the berth, nodding to his creator.

"C'mon, 'Wave. He's been having trouble rechargin' and he don't mind watching over your guys," said Blaster, moving towards his empty room. His cassettes had decided to recharge on the couch. They alternated between his berth and the couch. They said the couch was better, but he disagreed.

Soundwave follow, trying hard to control his trembling. He felt 'dirty' once more, and shame washed over him. Even in his dreams he couldn't stop Megatron from hurting his creations.

He entered Blaster's room and sat on the berth next to where Blaster had made himself comfortable and was laying down. His optics were filled with kindness and patience. The combination, once more, put the telepath at ease.

"Can you tell me what it was about?" Blaster asked quietly, taking the other mechs hand for support.

He hesitated for naught but a moment before blurting out the flux, not able to look at the other mech as he told him about it. He didn't want to see the shock and disgust in his optics that would surely come. He didn't want to see pity. He just wanted to…well, he didn't really know what he wanted to do. All he knew is that emotions were roaring and clashing inside of him in one big mess. He was sure he was crying again.

Feeling a thumb reach over and wipe off the coolant tears told him he'd been right.

And still, Soundwave didn't look at Blaster.

"Wave?"

Soundwave gritted his teeth. He did not want to look, he did not...

He turned and looked at Blaster.

Those honest optics were expressing all of the emotions he had thought he would see, and he lowered his helm in shame.

"Soundwave, look at me," pleaded the boom box entreatingly.

Soundwave did, finding that Blaster had slid closer to him.

"Megatron is trying to scare you. Heck, I'd be scared for my creations lives too. But keep in mind that it'd take a lot of planning and time for Megatron to get in here undetected. Remember he got really slagged by Skyfire today…oh, I mean yesterday, it's 1am. Anyway," continued Blaster, squeezing Soundwave's hand in comfort, "I'm not shocked at you. Or disgusted. It's understandable that you'd be having a flux like this, because I know you're scared for you creations. You told me his threat. I know you fear it. I'm disgusted at _him._"

"I'm not strong enough to protect them," whispered Soundwave sorrowfully.

With a sigh, Blaster moved his hands to cup Soundwave's face and turn him so they were optic to optic. "Listen to me. You have protected them for all these years. You've gone up against bigger or more sly bots than Megatron and they're fine. You've trained them _so_ well."

Although he still feared at that moment, something shot through Soundwave at the tender actions. The same thing that had pulsed in his spark that night a few nights ago when he had come into Blaster's berthroom…when the moonlight had shone across his face.

Biting his lower lip, Soundwave then mumbled, "Do you think this…violation is my punishment?"

Frowning in confusion, the red and yellow mech asked, "What do you mean by that?"

Wishing he could turn away from those honest, searching optics, Soundwave replied, "Do you think that…this…my violation, is a punishment? For all of the murders I helped to orchestrate as a Decepticon, for all the mechs I killed, for the few I tortured? Do…you think it's a 'just desserts' of some kind?"

A brief flicker of grief flickered over blue optics before Blaster caressed his thumbs over the navy mech's cheekarches. He said fiercely, "No. Never think that. Never. It's not right. Primus would never give such a punishment. No mech should ever…ever have to go what you've gone through. Rape is a wrong thing in many planets and cultures. It should never be used as punishment for what you've done in the past. _I know_ deep inside there's still the same Soundwave that I met millennia ago and shared an apartment with, who I worked with, and I know he's right here in front of me. Never be ashamed of yourself."

His spark felt lighter at the words and he leaned into Blaster's touch, wordlessly asking for more comfort.

Smiling softly, Blaster gathered his friend in his arms, laying the other's helm over his chestplates and rocking from side to side, humming. It never failed to relax his cassettes when they had their own problems.

Soundwave heard Blaster's sparkbeat and fuel pump thudding softly inside his chestplates. The rhythm was so very soothing. This, accompanied by the warmth of the body and arms around him, and the light humming, did serve to relax him. Blaster was here for him, taking away his fears. It felt so right to be so…himself. After years of putting on his mask for the world, he felt so real, not fake, in these simple moments.

"Are you sure?" Soundwave couldn't help but ask.

"Absolutely," replied the other mech, not missing a beat.

"Why do you find strength in me when I feel like there is nothing but weakness?"

Blaster thought the question over for a moment, and replied in a cautious tone, "I think it's just been ingrained in you that crying is a sign of weakness. That care in general is a sign of it. It seems very…Megatron to drill that into his soldiers. Meanwhile, we've never had that level of propaganda. Most of us don't see crying as a weakness. Sometimes we just need to break down. Y'know, we fall so we can pick ourselves up again to become stronger. I see that in you. We know grief, Soundwave. We've lost our planet. We know we let our emotions to get the better of us sometimes, and that's okay."

Soundwave recognised the pearl of wisdom in the words, such like Prowl's had been, and he took a moment of silence to absorb it.

"I think you're right," he said quietly after his silence. "When did you get so wise?"

A shrug. "Don't know really. Just say and do what feels natural most of the time."

"I'm talking to Prowl this morning. Again. Maybe he can also shed more light on things," Soundwave said, finding himself get drowsier with each word he spoke, so relaxed as he was listening to Blaster's systems, spark, and voice.

"Good idea. You sleep now, you hear? I'll be right here in case you have another flux," Blaster murmured, stroking over Soundwave's helm.

Soundwave did.

* * *

><p>"You know, I do think my story is helping Soundwave."<p>

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Although it's slow, it's there. He was willing to take off his mask yesterday before the battle while in the rec-room. I'd say that's a step forward."

"Mmm….hey, ya reckon that Smokey would be able to talk to 'em all? He _is_ the official Autobot psychologist after all. Gives 'em another support if they need it," suggested Jazz, cuddling up to his mate's chestplates, one hand resting, as it always did in before and during recharge, over Prowl's spark.

"I was thinking that as well. He also helped me…but not as much as you, sweetspark," replied Prowl, stroking over his mate's back.

The visor flashed playfully in the dark of their quarters and the saboteur replied, "Aw, that's sweet of ya…but Ah'm sure you didn't wake me up from recharge just to discuss these things. So what's up? Ya're bein' sneaky, 'n' Ah can feel it through our bond."

There was a low, husky chuckle that made Jazz shiver.

"Actually…I woke you up from your sleep…to make love to you," whispered the Praxian, rolling so he was all fours over the other black and white, smiling lovingly down at him.

Jazz grinned, "Ya romantic. Oh babe, ya know _just_ the right thing to say."

"I know," replied Prowl, leaning down and capturing his bondmate's lips with his, relishing in the sweet embrace of their lips as they glided over each other, parting at the right moment in an orchestrated dance, glossa's reaching out to stroke, caress, tease. Soft pulses of love flowed over the bond, feeding and fuelling their need. The saboteur moaned into the kiss, lifting up his visor.

Pulling back, Prowl whispered, "Beautiful."

The spent the next two hours reuniting in body and spark, proving to the other just how beautiful the other was to them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So…REVIEWS PLEASE! They will make me happy with this freaking mouse in the house that's freaking me out. **

**For the next chapter: Prowl talks to Soundwave about how he feels. But then, a vote by my readers. What should happen after this:**

**1) Jazz throws a 'Welcome to the Autobots' party for Soundwave and the Seekers. Cue drama, karaoke and laughter. **

**2) The Seekers do their Trine ritual. **

**Vote! And ye shall receive. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: At the time of me writing this on at 9.47am on 15/8/11 (Aus time and date), the votes for the two options are as follows (PLEASE NOTE this is also counting from the people on LiveJournal):**

**Option 1 (Party): 8 votes**

**Option 2 (Ritual): 10 votes.**

**Yeah….it came THAT close. But the trine ritual has won out. BUT because so many of my delightful reviewers have asked so, there **_**will**_** be a chapter with the party directly after this one. I will also mention that this trine ritual will NOT have any interfacing of any kind. That's not the official one. This is the 'official one' (in my head canon).**

**BY THE WAY!: Did anyone see that review by Peqoud on this story? Honestly, why bother writing that…**

**You know the disclaimers. Warnings: non sexual p 'n' p. **

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 11<strong>

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><p>Taking a sip of his energon cube, Soundwave asked Prowl, "Now that pleasantries are out of the way, would you mind…?"<p>

"Not at all. Ask any question you wish," the Praxian agreed wholeheartedly, taking a sip of his own energon and shifting so he was more comfortable in his office chair, optics resting on the mech he was helping. He noted that at least the telepath was far more relaxed than he could ever recall seeing his once enemy. It was an auspicious sign.

Deciding what he wanted to ask first, Soundwave questioned, "After you were repaired when you tried to….self-deactivate, what was your emotional state?"

Prowl had a feeling that Soundwave had been wanting to ask that.

"My emotional state did not come through completely until after Cloudstrike and Cloudburst were arrested and placed in jail. Up until that time, I hid my pain, told everyone that I was fine. Optimus was especially concerned. He wasn't full Prime yet, Sentinel was still functioning, and yet I could tell that Optimus would be far better than Sentinel ever could be. He had been watching out for me ever since I had told both Primes of my treatment. He earned my trust with his compassion and he has been my friend ever since. But back to my emotional state."Prowl took a moment here to take in another sip of energon, before continuing.

Optics unfocussed in thought, the SIC said, "It wasn't until I was in my – empty – quarters, that the reality of all that had happened really came down on me. The fact that I had been used like that for so long…it was depressing. I felt a fool. I felt pathetic…and yes….weak, a coward, for trying to take the easy way out."

Soundwave understood the weak feeling. He had become in good acquaintance with that emotion recently.

"I am of the understanding," the tactician went on softly, "that you feel unworthy of your treatment here, and that you feel, understandably, defiled. True?"

The blue mech couldn't find it in himself to articulate the words, so he nodded.

Prowl gave him and understanding smile and went on, demeanour solemn. "My words from the other day I want you to remember. That is one of the most important pieces of advice I can give you. By _living_ once more, you find your way to healing. You have already surrounded yourself with those who care for your wellbeing. This is key, more than anything else, on the way to healing."

Soundwave sipped his energon, listening, but something was niggling at him in the back of his processor. "I can feel myself slowly healing. But my main concern is not for me, but for my cassettes…"

The doorwinged mech frowned, not liking that Soundwave still found his worth as less than it was, but asked, "Your concerns?"

Swallowing the seeming lump of rust in his vocaliser, the telepath answered quietly, "Megatron has threatened to maim, assault, and kill my creations if I act against him or use my telepathy against him. That keeps me perpetually wary."

Blue optics sharpened suddenly with _complete_ understanding. Of course, why had he not suspected earlier? Once Soundwave was assured of his cassettes safety would he be able to accept what had happened. It was like an extra torture for the telepath, he was sure of it. Thinking up plans on the spot, Prowl said, "Because of that threat, I have a proposition. The spare room in which you stay in Blaster's quarters will be specially reinforced and a new security system installed on that one door. Only you and your cassettes will be able to enter it unless you let another in. We could also program it so that Megatron would never be able to enter, even if he tried to hack it. Would this be sufficient enough to begin to ease your worries?"

"You would really do all that for the protection of those who had once tried to kill you?" Soundwave asked stiffly.

"I believe I've been over this with you. You are not an enemy anymore, but a mech in need. I see a need, I fill it if it's in my power," Prowl replied coolly.

Soundwave felt touched by the sheer will to help that Prowl exuded. He smiled in relief. "Yes sir, it will be sufficient." It wasn't a lie. The thought of air-tight security measures did make his spark ease. Maybe he could let his cassettes out into the main body of the Ark soon. Primus knew they were getting restless.

"Consider it done. I'll comm. Red Alert to work on it as soon as possible," the black and white murmured.

A thought occurred to the ex-Con. "How is he taking the fact we are in base?"

A smirk touched Prowl's lips as he replied, "We are very, very lucky that he was able to keep his paranoia in check this time. "

Soundwave smirked as well. It was a rather comic visual. Sensing that his time was up, he gave a nod to Prowl and left silently, another part of his spark that was hurt, slowly healing.

* * *

><p>"You are rather gracious to have allowed us the privilege, Prime," Starscream said, but the slight hint of derision told Prime that the jet really didn't want him to witness what was about to happen.<p>

"It would have been Skyfire if it wasn't for the fact that you two need a break from each other. I think you have been in each other's company far more than what is healthy, especially in circumstances in these," Optimus said calmly.

"Oh? Then who should I spend time with? The jet judo twins? Your medic, your tactician, oh, how about those minibots who have big guns to compensate!" Starscream argued heatedly, crossing his arms and glaring at his new leader. Granted, Starscream would have Prime over Megatron any day, but now he wondered if the semi was being intentionally obtuse right now.

"That is not what I meant," the matrix-bearer replied softly. "I meant that perhaps when one is in another's company for too long a length of time, sometime a restlessness may be felt and a break is needed. I know that you have only talked to Ratchet, myself, Skyfire and your trinemates. And even then, Skyfire has been the only one you have only really associated with. It is a concern for your wellbeing, Starscream, one that I have poorly expressed."

Damn Prime with his diplomatic words!

Scoffing lightly, the Seeker replied, "Apology accepted. Besides, if I take one step inside that rec-room-"

"Actually," Optimus interrupted in a cheerful tone, "Soundwave and your trinemates have ventured there and nothing happened apart from a few hostile glares, so I was informed."

Starscream scowled at the other mech and retorted, "Well, I happen to value my wings higher than Skywarp or Thundercracker. Besides…" he trailed off, as wondering as if to finish the sentence with, 'the only time I feel me is around my trine and Skyfire'.

Thankfully, Optimus didn't press him.

"Hey Starscream, Optimus, sir!"

The cheerful greeting voice belonged to none other than Skywarp, walking toward his trine leader and new commander, with Thundercracker striding evenly beside him. Their wings flicked in greeting, but Starscream saw that they were so eagerly anticipating what was to happen next. A week of no flying was beginning to take its toll on all three of them. Outside in the fresh air was making them all inpatient. Their vantage point on top of the entrance of the Ark gave them a clear view of the desert surrounds and of the brilliant blue sky stretching out above them.

A perfect day for the Trine ritual.

Optimus Prime was going to be watching them to satisfy security reasons, of course.

Sensing the rising impatience in his trinemates – although internally asking himself if _he_ was ready for this – Starscream said to Prime, "We are about to begin. Please do not attempt to call us down or interfere in this time. It needs to be complete."

Optimus nodded in understanding, walking away and sitting down on a blanket he pulled out of subspace to rest on, giving them privacy.

Starscream inhaled and exhaled noisily through his vents to centre himself. Skywarp and Thundercracker moved in closer to him, the blue mech on his right, the black on his left, making them form a triangle.

"Ready Star?" Thundercracker asked quietly, reaching over and taking the tricoloured mechs hand in his, as Skywarp took his and Starscream's.

Cerise optics turned determined and he nodded. "As I'll ever be. Connect, now," he ordered, releasing panels in each wrist, extending two specialised cables. He watched in satisfaction as Skywarp followed immediately, and Thundercracker also, but only after looking both he and his lover in this optics. Next to each point where the cable extended was a port for connection. These connections were more intimate than data exchange ports, but less than ones in the abdominal region for those who could not interface via spike/valve for any reason.

These cables were for creating Trines.

Before any traditional ritual, to find your trine, they had to be in synch with the other two in the trine. The leader of the trine was the one who determined which of the other Seekers would belong. Starscream had found Skywarp and Thundercracker, who had already found each other to be in synch, and decided to take his chances. After all, he had been disgraced from the Science academy at the time. But the two mechs had accepted him. They had been 100% in synch from the first time.

The perfect, balanced trine.

Whispering in a lilted Cybertronian, Starscream spoke the words of the vows they had taken as a Trine so long ago.

"I as Trine leader endeavour to uphold the Vosnian tradition of the Trine, not meant for the faint of spark, not meant for the selfish or the unwilling. I vow to honour, protect, care, and respect my trinemates within the extents of my abilities. I vow to provide in times of need. I vow to protect your wings as you would mine. The Trine is for community. The Trine is for knowing you are not alone in a world where this can be possible. The Trine is for strength and loyalty. As leader, I will fly forward and straight with you." As he said the ancient instilled words, he connected his cables to the other's wrist ports, sending the first data of _promise_.

"We as trinemates," Skywarp and Thundercracker murmured in a soft tandem, "endeavour to hold this with you. We vow to honour, protect, care, respect, and obey our leader within the extents of our abilities. We vow to provide and comfort in times of need. We vow to protect your wings as you would ours. We see the Trine for what it is and will keep it sacred until we reach the Well of Sparks and beyond. As Trinemates, we will fly forward and straight with you."

Starscream felt warmth travel through him at the honestly spoke words, felt as Skywarp and Thundercracker sent him loyalty, trust, and care through the connection. Shuttering his optics, he cued the exchange. Instantly they shared how they felt, what they wanted from the others. It was intimate without being so. It was softer than love, so much more than care. It was the nature of Trines at its finest. Regardless of the atrocities, regardless of the disagreements and fights, they still believed in one another and cared. Tender feelings blossomed in their sparks, hidden away for so long under Decepticon rule. They were friends, lovers, family and so much more rolled into one.

The exchange completed. The trine bonds were established once more, but now to complete them.

Unshuttering his optics, Starscream gazed into his trinemate's optics. Skywarp's looked suspiciously wet, but he could attend to that later.

Hoarse from emotion, the tricoloured Seeker whispered, "Let us fly."

Still connected through the cables, as one, they ignited their thrusters and hovered above the ground, before slowly climbing. They looked up to the sky as one, sensations of how the breeze felt, caressing their wings, and of the perfectness of the clear sky travelled through the trine link. They flew up, up, up, so high that the Ark was an orange blob amongst empty brownish desert. They hovered there in silence, communicating solely through their wings with sweeps, twitches, sways and wiggles.

Starscream's voice broke the silence.

"Now," he ordered.

In movements long performed, the three disconnected their cables to return them to their bodies and transformed. They faced north in a row, Starscream in the centre, and started off. Words didn't need to be spoken, the ritual so ingrained that they knew what to do.

They streaked forward at high speed, before doing a high loop and performing a low helix down in altitude, heading south. Straight they went, until they executed perfect Immelman turns, G-forces on them exhilarating them, exciting them all. Oh how they all loved to fly!

Thundercracker and Skywarp broke out of the formation, going to the sides and spiralling around Starscream, who was still flying straight in between them. Putting on a burst of speed, Starscream smirked internally. He loved the next stunt, one of the hardest to ever have been taught to fliers. At the last moment, his trinemates levelled out far on either side of him as they went up into a quarter loop, stalling as one, dipping back towards the Earth tail-first, waiting for the precise moment.

"Yee-haa!" trilled Skywarp as they dipped their nosecones toward the Earth and hurtled through the air, allowing themselves to free-fall. Thundercracker laughed deeply, doing an aileron roll lazily for the heck of it as the ground got closer and closer.

Just when Optimus, still watching, thought they were going to crash into the desert plain, they pulled up, thrusters blazing as they pushed themselves into the atmosphere again, spiralling around each other.

Thundercracker levelled out, executing a chandelle as Skywarp and Starscream climbed higher. He lagged behind on purpose. Once they were at a height, he roared up, making a deafening sonic boom as he streaked in the gap they made and going back into the upwards spiral. Skywarp giggled gleefully as he did, and he too pulled ahead, only to show off with the difficult Cobra manoeuvre, seeming as if he reared up before executing a tight loop and falling back into the spiralling formation. They continued to spiral upwards until they were at the exact height they had climbed to before performing the ritual. Starscream hovered there for a second, before rocketing up even higher. His trinemates didn't follow.

He had to perform what was known in the trines as the 'leap of faith.'

Only it was less like a leap and more like a fall.

He had done it before, but only once on Earth. As air pushed past his wings, Starscream reflected that for the first time since he had abandoned his faction, he felt freedom. Not free. He had felt that. But freedom in all its form. He sighed and rocketed on, far higher than he had gone before. Skywarp and Thundercracker were slightly worried that he was going so high, but he ignored it for the time being. He had to do this.

As he got to the point where he felt ice frost over his wings from the altitude, he stopped and hovered.

Looking out over what he could see of the world, Starscream took a moment to reflect.

Why, oh why had he been so stupid? This was such a beautiful planet, and he had ignored it out of forced loyalty and of bitterness. "You have not beaten me, Megatron," he promised to the quiet space around him, "if everything goes my way, I will live to see your de-activation and Cybertron returned to life."

And he cut his engines, letting gravity take him back down to where his trinemates were circling, as they should.

The tricoloured jet looked stunning as it glided through the air, sunlight blinding off the shiny plating and leaving a trail of ice chips, like glittering diamonds, behind him.

It was oddly peaceful.

Then gravity, angry at being defied by the gorgeous Seeker, grabbed it's true hold.

Starscream cackled and transformed mid-fall, spread-eagling himself and letting the forces take him, not worried at all of his body hurtling towards the ground, but enjoying the air rushing past him. He was smiling. For the first time in a while, he was smiling in true joy. The joy of flight.

He knew he wasn't far above the ground now. He heard Optimus Prime's cry of alarm, but still, he didn't fear.

Starscream guessed he was about 60 feet above the ground when two pairs of arms caught him like they had on every other time that they had performed the ritual. It was the true test of trust. He let his smile linger as the thought that Skywarp and Thundercracker still wanted and trusted him enough. They barrel rolled together in their mech mode, the black and blue Seekers sheltering the tricoloured one as they flew up to the top of the volcano and finally shut off their thrusters to stand, united.

"Perfect execution," Starscream praised, placing an arm around each trine mate as they did the same. They were all smiling with elation. Their trine bond was complete. Skywarp in particular looked ecstatic, and Starscream was wondering if it was possible if he was going to damage his face from smiling so widely. Thundercracker also looked happier than he had in the past few months.

"Such high praise from you, Star," Thundercracker said.

Skywarp giggled and cried out, "Trine hug!"

Starscream yelped as he felt those arms go around him once more, both his trinemates chuckling as he squawked, "Didn't you do that already?" But they knew their trine leader didn't mean it. His arms were around them too.

After they separated, they all breathed a sigh of relief. The black and purple jet was looking at his lover intensely now – Starscream caught the obvious glance, even as Thundercracker was looking out over the desert.

Sighing at how easily observable Skywarp could be, he drew the wing-language figure for _'protect'_ on their wings (a half circle with a line through it), and farewelled, walking away, "I'm going to the washracks. My wings need a good polish after that. I would like to meet you outside the rec-room at 6pm."

"See you then, Starscream," Thundercracker replied, but Skywarp only nodded, his optics fixed on the strong blue jet in front of him. Sensing the gaze, Thundercracker turned, meeting the blazing warm fire of his lover's optics in slight confusion. Why was Skywarp looking at him like that? The last time that had happened he had been pushed into a storeroom closet and…oh.

Moving forward, the teleporter stood cockpit to cockpit to the other mech, warmth from their flight still exuding from their bodies. He lost himself in the caring optics of the blue Seeker, reaching up and cupping the pale cheeks in his hands.

"Are you sure?" Thundercracker whispered in concern as he figured out what was to come next.

Licking his lipplates, Skywarp replied back, "No doubt in my spark…or processor."

As strong blue arms wound around his waist and caressed the base of his wings, Skywarp shuttered his optics and leaned forward, gently brushing his lips over that of his lover's, keeping it light, tentative. After all, what if TC _was_ disgusted? Unshuttering his optics slightly, he found TC's optics the same, almost shuttered, but dimmed in tenderness. Feeling relief, he pressed forward, tilting his helm to the side and letting his lips massage over his lover's, the reply strong as Thundercracker's arms held him tight, pressing them together. Their kiss was sweet, tender and soft. If it had been anything but, Skywarp doubted he would have had the courage to continue, parting his lips and letting his lover's questing glossa delve in and stroke over his own.

Drawing back, Thundercracker whispered, "You taste like you. No-one or nothing else, 'Warp."

Brushing another kiss over TC's lips, the black and purple jet whispered, "That's what I needed to hear."

"No. You _wanted_ to hear that. You need to hear me say that I love you…and that when you're ready…I want you to be my bondmate," the blue Seeker murmured as they stood, nose to nose and lips touching the others as they spoke.

Excitement raced through him and Skywarp asked, "You mean it?"

"Yes."

Skywarp pulled Thundercracker into another kiss, holding the handsome faceplate close. Things were going to be great.

* * *

><p>Watching from on top of the Ark, Optimus remarked to Starscream, "It's a good sign."<p>

With a warm smile at where his trinemates were embracing and kissing, Starscream replied, "Of course Prime, any bot could see that. It truly is."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, I know not a lot of other interaction in this chapter, but I think this really needed to be done. How did you like that last part? Good? PLEASE REVIEW! **

**PARTY TIME! In next chapter. (Cue the song fics. Any recommendations for songs? I'm thinking that a certain boom box is going to sing 'Bed of Roses,' by Bon Jovi).**

I also have some links to the stunts that the trine pulled (just take out the spaces): http:/en. wikipedia. org/ wiki/ Aileron_roll

http:/ /en. wikipedia. org/ wiki/ Pugachev%27s_Cobra ... http:/ en. wikipedia. org/ wiki/ Chandelle http:/ en. /wiki/ Immelmann_turn http:/ en .wikipedia .org/ wiki/ Tailslide


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Here we go, the party scene! But, will it all be fun and games? We'll find out. I'm also sorry that this was late. **

**Oh, by the way, I know G1 is set in the 80's, but excuse me for using recent music that I know. Sorry for using stuff interchangeably between decades -_-' You have been warned, no flames for that please. **

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 12<strong>

* * *

><p>"A party."<p>

"Yeah…a party."

"For us."

"You, your guys, the Seekers. Jazz said it's like a 'welcome to the Autobots' party crossed with a victory party."

"And…you are expecting me to go to these festivities?"

"Well, yeah. Thought it'd be a change of pace. Something exciting instead of being either stuck here or on comm. duty with me."

"…a party."

Blaster arched an optic ridge. "I believe we just went over that." He couldn't really blame his friend for questioning it and analysing it. Pit, he'd be confused too if he went over to the Nemesis and the Decepticons decided to have a party that was partly for him. He could understand the odd feeling, but it didn't mean he wanted Soundwave to be too wary to go to it.

Soundwave gave Blaster a dead, not impressed look. The red mech merely grinned innocently.

"Am I to understand that the _whole_ base will be there?" the navy mech asked, crossing his arms.

Blaster had to catch himself before he laughed. It was the pose that Soundwave used to adopt when Ravage chewed up a datapad or when he woke up hungover after a party and Soundwave had to help sober him up.

"Well, not the whole base. I know a few of the more hostile minibots are not going to stick around too long, and I think there will be a few others who won't want to go. But yeah, a majority. Still going to be mechs doing patrols, if that's what you are worried about," answered the boom box.

Yes, that was _exactly_ what he had been concerned about. He didn't want his creations to be caught, and it was still one of the biggest fears he held.

To be completely honest with himself, however, he was curious. He had hardly remembered the parties he had been to back on Cybertron, although he remembered DJ-ing with Blaster on such occasions. The only parties he had been to since then had been Decepticon victory parties – surely, this type of party would be vastly different from the ones he had been accustomed to. Decepticon parties included lots of loud, heavy Cybertronian music that acted like a battering ram against one's audials, lots of high grade and stimulants, and the ever inevitable public interfacing.

Of course, he had always tried to steer clear once it got to that stage.

Knowing that he could be laughed at for asking, the telepath questioned, "So…what happens at the party?"

Blaster gave him an odd look, as if caught somewhere between pity and incredulousness. "Well," he began, "we have a bit of high grade, we dance, we talk, sometimes we perform and sing. It's really just an excuse to be social and have some fun. Your cassettes will be totally fine there. I know mine love DJ-ing with me when we have parties."

"Human music?"

"Yeah mech! I love the human's music. So emotive with some songs, and some are just so cool to groove to," the comm. officer said excitedly, grinning at the choice of topic.

"Really?" Soundwave's curiosity was piqued. He and his cassettes had listened to Earth music in their quarters, but only when they were sure that no other mech was around to hear it. He had to admit that Blaster was right. Human music was so interesting.

Blaster nodded happily. "I love Bon Jovi. That guys knows how to rock! I also like a lot of the more mainstream, recent stuff. Like Jason Derulo, Lady Gaga, heaps of stuff. I think Prowl called Jazz's and my tastes in music 'eclectic.' Gotta say, it fits," he said.

"Oh."

The more chipper mech took a long look at his friend, at a mech who was slowly healing during their time and chat sessions together. He looked so uncertain, reminding Blaster of baby birds about to take their first flight. Kindly, he asked, "So…what human music interests you?"

Soundwave mumbled something that he couldn't hear, so he gestured for the other mech to say it louder.

"I actually…rather enjoy the sounds of Maroon 5 and of classic rock bands, among others."

Blaster felt sorry for Soundwave. The mech had been so gregarious with his music back on Cybertron, back at _Frequency_, and for it not to be shown, and for it to be seen as shameful to like music broke his spark. He hid it well and nodded, smiling. "Maroon 5, huh? Their tunes are pretty sweet. Catchy, groovy. Nice taste, mech."

The words seemed to do the trick, and the telepath let a small smile turn the corners of his lips up as he looked at his friend in gratitude.

"So…you're coming to the party?" Blaster asked hopefully, playfully batting his optics.

He was quite sure Soundwave rolled his own optics as he answer, "Yes, Blaster. For you."

Blaster could hide the massive grin that came over his face when

* * *

><p>Starscream couldn't believe it.<p>

The first time he had gone to the Autobot's rec-room and they had the audacity to throw a party!

True, it was both a victory party and a form of 'welcome,' but still!

He had merely wanted to go for some energon. To, as Optimus Prime put it oh so bluntly yesterday after he had his flight, 'get out and know the fraction you're going to be living with.' Sure! Go and know the mechs that he had recently tried to murder/maim/rule. No problem, Prime, no problem at all.

At least his trine had arrived and were having a bit of fun.

Skywarp and Thundercracker were next to him, Skywarp singing loudly (and badly) to a song playing. Starscream didn't recognise it, being it was Earth music, but it was alright to listen too…once Skywarp stopped trying to sing it.

Sipping his energon, the tricoloured jet found himself grateful for _some_ things. One being that Skyfire was still in his lab. Lately, he had acted like such a _sap_ around his old friend. Clinging on to him like a sparkling, not being snappy like he was usually, being so pathetic in all senses of the word. He didn't feel like himself.

'_But then again,'_ he thought to himself, '_I have gone through…lots and lots of slag I don't deserve.'_

It was a small victory to say that he didn't deserve the treatment under Megatron's hands. Secretly, for a little while, he thought he had. But for Skyfire to go and _pound_ his abuser to the ground…

He scowled, thinking of the way he acted once Skyfire came back, jumping onto him like some love struck Seekerlet.

"Hey Star, what's got you looking like a lemon face?" Skywarp asked, grinning at his trine leader.

"None of your business," the tricoloured mech answered neutrally, schooling his expression. He saw his trinemates give sideways glances to each other and he rolled his optics. "I'm thinking," he answered. Having performed the Trine Ritual so recently, he felt safer with them, more…able to be open.

At least the questioning made Skywarp stop singing.

"Always thinking! I swear you never stop!" teased the black flier, leaning over his mate to playfully poke his leader in the arm. Starscream swatted the finger away with another scowl.

It was Thundercracker's turn to roll his optics, and he grabbed his lover and said, "Let's go dance. Maybe we can get rid of that excess energy. See you later, Star."

Starscream smirked at the gleeful expression on Skywarp's face as he was swept onto the dance floor in front of the music station, where Jazz and Blaster were manning the music files. There weren't many on the dancefloor. The small spy, Bumblebee, was there with another minibot, Beachroamer, or something like that. The diva-like mech, Tracks, was swaying along to the music, although he turned his lip up when Skywarp and Thundercracker began to dance. Most mechs, Starscream observed, were at their tables, with cubes of normal or high-grade energon in front of them and chatting, enjoying the music.

He had been mostly ignored by most mechs, which was good. No hostile reaction was a good reaction in this situation.

Looking around, the Seeker had a feeling like most of the Autobots were waiting for something. If so, then what? The party had started, that much was sure, with the music and the atmosphere, but even he knew it was…not complete.

The doors cycled open, and the figure in the doorway caused Starscream to look and become curious.

Soundwave looked around awkwardly, his cassettes around his pedes looking gleeful and excited. Spotting him, the telepath made for his table.

This could be interesting.

* * *

><p>Jazz saw Soundwave enter first, nudging Blaster who was rooting around in a box of datafiles.<p>

"Your bondmate is here," the black and white mentioned, laughing when his friend jabbed him in the kneejoint.

"Shh! I don't want anyone to overhear you!" Blaster whispered in a harsh tone, frowning, holding up the next set of tracks he wanted to play.

Jazz merely smirked. "Chill, mech. Yur secret is safe with me. But don't be surprised if other mechs are startin' to suspect. The way ya've been actin' toward him is so protective and all. Getting' a little obvious," he said neutrally.

"I can't help who I fall in love with, Jazz. You know that more than anyone," the red mech said, still frowning as he thought about how others would see his actions towards his long lost friend.

"Yeah, Ah know. But watch it. Ya don't want _Soundwave_ to find out yet, cos he's still reeling over the abuse and all. Plus, it'd be real awkward with him livin' in your quarters," the saboteur explained, bobbing his head along to the beat of "_Don't wanna go home"_ by Jason Derulo that just came on.

The music of one of his favourite artists at the moment calmed the larger mech, and he shifted to the beat and smirked. "Yeah, you're right. You reckon it'll look too overprotective if I go down to meet him right now?"

"Yep. Give 'im a wave, smile at 'im, but don't go down to see him just yet, Blast-man. Personally, Ah think ya're babyin' him just a little, but maybe that's because Ah know that when Ah came on too strong to Prowl back when we got together, he'd back off. So give 'im a little bit of space. If he needs ya, he'll sure as Pit let ya know, Ah'll guarantee it," Jazz replied with no hesitation, putting it kindly but bluntly.

Blaster sighed, but did as recommended, smiling at the ex-Con and his cassettes, waving jovially at them before sitting down and checking the playlist for tonight.

"There ya go!" the visored mech encouraged with a smirk. "Now, what song out of the three should Ah sing tonight? After all, Ah haven't serenaded Prowl publically in a while…"

It got the cassette player mech to chuckle. "That poor bondmate of yours get's 'serenaded' every night in your quarters every night, I'm sure."

Jazz mock-gasped and trilled, "Young mech, how dare you impugn me of such actions! No matter how true they are!"

Blaster laughed at his friends acting and looked with a critical optic over the three songs Jazz showed him on the music station holoscreen. With a chuckle, he said, "I don't think that singing 'Nasty Naughty Boy,' in public will make Prowl happy. I think that one is one reserved for a private dance in the berthroom."

"Been there, done that. Just wonderin' if Ah should do it public." The cheeky grin on the smaller mech's face could have blinded any jet in the sky from the ground.

Blaster rolled his optics. "TMI, mech. Anyway, I also don't think that 'Marry You,' by Bruno Mars will be right. It's…rather 'blah' for singing to your bondmate, I think. I like the last one, where'd ya find that one?"

"It's a musical, got turned into a movie. Got loads of drama. Ya reckon it'll do?"

"Prowl'll love it."

* * *

><p>Returning Blaster's wave, Soundwave continued to approach the table at which Starscream sat at. The Seeker didn't look like tense or hostile in any way. He was simply watching their approach with a blank face. He stood in front of the table and inquired, "Seat: taken?"<p>

"No. Go ahead," came the response.

He took the seat and gestured to his cassettes. "Objective: retrieve energon," he intoned, and they nodded, running off to get energon. He noted they were cautious, but animated and happy to be out and around others.

"Eager little fiends," Starscream said, drawing his attention to the mech he was sitting with.

"Cassettes: in new environment. Excitement: logical," he said, mask modulating his voice.

"Of course," replied the Seeker.

It was an odd, awkward silence until the cassettes came back, each with a cube of energon in their hands, Ratbat swooping down to deposit the extra cube he got in front of his creator. Soundwave made an odd hum, and the small mechs sat down and drank their energon obediently, their optics roving around the room. Of course, they knew the size of the room from the map of the base, but they rarely had cause to enter it in their infiltrations, and so their optics gathered all the information they could.

"So…how's life on base for you?" Starscream asked, wincing as the question came out. To his audials, it made the awkward moment even worse. The look that the telepath shot him behind the visor was so flat that he wondered if the truce they had made…that night…was a full truce after all.

After what seemed like minutes, but was actually a few seconds, Soundwave replied quietly, "Life: getting together. Autobots: better environment."

"Well, it certainly is an improvement over a living with a megalomaniac," the Seeker said.

"Indeed."

Plucking up all his will to eject the next words from his mouth, the flier murmured, "Listen, I do have one thing to say. You have my gratitude for making a decision on that night for us to come here. I've found life here more agreeable than what it was on the Nemesis."

"Query: so it's not just the energon that is better?"

Soundwave cracked a joke.

Not the strongest of jokes…but a joke nevertheless. Starscream arched his optic ridges in surprise and answered, "Well, it's a bonus."

Soundwave seemed to smirk, but it was hard to tell with that mask.

"Evening, gentlemechs."

Prowl had been the one to speak, coming to them with a datapad in one hand and a cube of energon in the other. Starscream swore that the mech didn't go anywhere without a datapad. He nodded as the blue mech across from him greeted Prowl in his monotone. Even the cassettes greeted Prowl civilly, if not jovially. Ravage even let himself be patted on the helm!

"Cassettes: are free to dance," Soundwave said, Rumble an Frenzy grinning and running onto the dance floor near Skywarp and TC, Ratbat flying over to join them, while the other three slunk off to explore.

Sitting down, the Praxian commented, "Nice to see you both here and getting out and about. How are you, Starcream?"

"Fine." No way was he going to have a personal talk with the SIC until he was good and ready.

Prowl sensed this and wisely turned to Soundwave to ask the same question. The jet was surprised that the telepath actually opened his mask to talk to the doorwinged mech. It sated one of his long held curiosities. To see that Soundwave had a perfectly smooth, handsome lower face was a bit of a disappointment for him, actually. He had been expecting a scar or something.

"Content for now," the tapedeck replied.

It was true. His creations were buzzing with curiosity and excitement about their surrounds. Ratbat was having fun with the twins dancing to 'Love Shack' by the B-52's, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw were cackling over who had the worst playing cards from the game between Smokescreen, Hound, and Warpath, and Ravage was curled up under the music station near Blaster.

"That's-"

"Good evenin' mechs! Now that everybot's here and settled in, we're going to kick off with a lil' performance!"

Jazz's cheerful voice interrupted all conversation throughout the room everyone turning to look at the beaming black and white on the small stage next to the music station. Once all the attention was on him, he went on, "Now, Ah haven't done a lil' serenadin' recently, so Ah'm gonna do it tonight, to show our new bots how we have a good laugh and to kick off a good time!"

Soundwave and Starscream turned their gaze abruptly to Prowl, who groaned in mortification, "Oh Primus, not another one."

"Sir?" asked Soundwave.

"Watch," the chevroned mech mumbled, placing his helm in his hands.

The light dimmed in the rec room, and a light over the stage brightened, enhancing the shining paintjob of the saboteur as he grinned and moved along to the brassy 60's big band music that began to flow out of the speakers. Mechs around the room were grinning. They'd seen this type of display before. Jazz amplified his voice to sing.

_Never met a mech,  
>Quite like you.<br>Doing all you can, making my dreams come true_

The saboteur turned head on towards the table where Prowl sat, catching his bondmate's secretly happy optics as he poured out the next words.

_You're strong and you're smart  
>You've taken my spark, and Ah'll give you the rest of me too<em>

_You're the perfect mech for me, Ah love you Ah do_

The singing mech pointed his finger at his bondmate as the smooth, vocals flowed out of his mouth and floated through the air to reach his comrades, who were grinning – some were moving along to the cheery music. 

_Mm Ah love ya_

_You're the perfect man for me, Ah love you Ah do_

_You've got a charm, you simply disarm me every time._  
><em>As long as you drive, Ah'm along for the ride, all the way,<em>  
><em>Ah said it before, there won't be a door that's closed to us.<em>  
><em>Putting all my trust in you…Cause you, you'll always be true, Ooooohhhhh! Ah never could have known…<em>  
><em>This would be,<em>  
><em>Oh you and you alone, yeah…All for me.<em>

Jazz twirled, grooving along the music, visor flashing with mischievousness as he jumped off the stage, sauntering towards Prowl. The doorwinger's optics widened with realisation. He made to move, but as he pushed back his chair, his lover made an odd sort of jump and landed in his lap, continuing to sing.

_Ah know you're the best, you've passed every test, it's almost too good to be true  
>You're the perfect mech for me, Ah love you Ah do<br>You're the perfect mech for me, Ah love you Ah do_

As he finished the song, Jazz drew his bondmate into a quick, but deep kiss, encouraging wolf whistles and cat calls from the Autobots while Starscream and Soundwave didn't know where to look…should they look at all was the question they asked themselves.

As his lover drew away, Prowl's faceplates heated in embarrassment, so much that pink tinged the top of his cheekplating.

Jazz merely giggled and flounced away, bowing to the rec-room and calling out, "Now, let's get this party truly stared!"

Instantly, Blaster switched on "_Ballroom Blitz_" by The Sweet. Mechs stood up to dance again, but more did so. The lights dimmed and multicoloured balls flicked on, casting the rainbow coloured light everywhere throughout the room.

Starscream snerked and said to the Praxian at the table, "Well, that was no what I expected from such uptight bots."

Prowl cleared his throat, engaging his professionalism and replied, "Jazz is…very unconventional."

"I'll say," said Starscream, smirking.

Soundwave smiled kindly and commented, "Your mate has a very nice vocal tone. And…it was…_cute_." Soundwave frowned at himself, even as the word left his mouth. He had never found the need of using the word, but it seemed to fit this mech who had trusted him and the saboteur.

Prowl smiled back at him and said, "I am off to do my duty. Have a nice night, mechs."

"Soft Autobots," muttered the flier softly, but the telepath knew there was no true inflection in the tone.

"Indeed."

Seeing the high grade cubes available, Starscream asked his old enemy, "You want high-grade? I'll get some if you want it. Pit knows it'll be better than the trash we had back on the _Nemesis_."

"…sure."

As Starscream wandered off to get them energon, Soundwave reflected how juxtaposed his life was compared to the one he had been living. The habits so ingrained in him would take their time to fade, and until they did, he marvelled at how his citations had changed. He felt like a curious youngling with all the comparisons he was doing. Catching Blaster's optic at the music station, he gave a tentative smile in reassurance. It was good that Blaster was giving him his autonomy back, bit by bit.

When Starscream came back with the desired cubes of high-grade, Soundwave vowed to see the party to its end. It wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

><p><em>Two Hours Later.<em>

Soundwave wished that he hadn't vowed to stay.

Not that it was horrible. No.

It was just a bit…awkward and a little uncomfortable to see a few mechs dancing with their partners in such a way that he didn't need his telepathy to know the activities they were planning on doing later that night. Especially those twins. He was sure that their names were next to the definition of 'sexy dancing' in any mechs dictionary. They were the most overt, kissing each other, hands sliding into seams and under plating that he was sure was not fit for public.

At least half of the Autobots in the room were either pleasantly buzzed or completely drunk.

So was Skywarp. He was dancing with the Autobot Smokescreen on top of a table, to the applause of Trailbreaker, Hound and Mirage, who were all buzzed.

It was a happy and friendly atmosphere that accompanied the varying states of drunkenness.

He had been mostly left alone, although it had been rather entertaining to have the young gunner, Bluestreak, come up and start talking about random Disney movies. He now knew everything about the Fox and the Hound. Apart from the huge public displays of affection and drunkenness, it was nice to listen to the different songs.

Soundwave felt himself having to hide a smirk behind his hand as Skywarp plucked Starscream from the dancefloor as the song changed, both overcharged Seeker's beginning to do the 'Macarena.'

He was glad. Unbeknownst to Starscream, he kept mental tabs on the Seeker. The emotional state had fluctuated so much that it sometimes puzzled him, but now it seemed to have levelled out. No doubt there was still pain, but the Seeker was coming back to himself, slowly.

In his thoughts and not being able to hear much over the thudding of "DJ got us falling in love again," by Usher, the telepath didn't realise that a very drunk mech had stumbled to his table, sitting in a chair next to him.

It was the heavy, stale scent of consumed high-grade – and a lot of it – was what broke Soundwave out of his thoughts.

Tracks leaned in drunkenly and giggled, "You're a con."

"I was…" Soundwave said, not liking the distance between him and this mech. This mech hated Decepticons almost as much as Cliffjumper did.

The giggle was shriller and Tracks said, "Bet you'd be good in the berth."

Soundwave did _not_ like where this was going.

"Shee, cos you guysss are bad, you'd be baaaad in the berth…" the drunk mech 'whispered' in a loud voice. Soundwave recoiled, moving to the next chair along, but the mech just followed, a hand dipping down to stroke along his thigh in a caress that was supposed to be seductive, but came out clumsy. The navy mech pushed the hand off and warned, "Desist."

"Issa party….wanna party…"

The clumsy hand searched his abdomen, filling Soundwave with an unfathomable anger. Gathering his telepathic prowess, he forced himself into the orange-faced Autobot's processor and bypassed the rather lewd thoughts circulating in the mechs mental, drunk processes. One that was done, he found the forced recharge and triggered it, backing away both telepathically and physically from the corvette as he slumped and went into recharge.

"Wave."

Soundwave turned to see Blaster there, looking concerned.

"You okay main machine?" the red mech asked, looking between his friend and Tracks.

"I am now,' he replied steadily.

Giving a pitying look to the drunk mech who was offline, Blaster mentioned, "He tends to go overboard with the high-grade, but who can really blame him. When we want to have fun, or we need to forget, we go all out, and Tracks is a sure sign of that. By the way, I rather enjoyed how you made him recharge. That was cool."

"I didn't enjoy the thoughts," muttered Soundwave.

Blaster winced and said, "Yeah I'll bet."

They watched the party in companionable silence. Blaster's cassettes had come in from comm. duty and were now dancing with Rumble, Frenzy and Ratbat, while Ravage talked with his condor siblings. The two split spark mechs were happy to simply watch their fun, until Blaster got hit by an idea.

"Hey Wave, next party, wanna DJ with me? Put on a show like we used to?"

Soundwave smiled as he considered it. As soon as he heard it, he liked it. Besides…his competitive side was aching to have a go at trying to best Blaster on the holo-matter DJ tables.

"May the best mech win."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I tried to make the character of Starscream a little less 'damsel'-like in this one. **

**I hoped you liked it, and if you did, PLEASE REVIEW.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Oh geez, I'm starting to get some writer's block for this. I know where I want to go in this fic, but right now, I can't connect the dots to get there. So I had Soundwave on his own for a bit with Ravage, and Ratchet and Starscream catching up on some late surgery. **

**Disclaimer: No I don't own Transformers. **

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 13<strong>

* * *

><p>"I like it here," murmured Ravage, curling up further on his creator's lap, glad to know that Soundwave didn't flinch at the contact.<p>

"Do you?" inquired the telepath, watching as the rest of his creations played tag with each other in an area not too far from the Ark, under supervision from himself, Blaster and (although he wasn't supposed to know) Mirage. The spy was invisible of course, writing away on a datapad.

Yawning and purring satisfactorily in an uncanny similarity to a human cat, the eldest cassette muttered, "Well, I don't have to watch my back as much. And it is rather nice to be given regular energon and even high-grade."

Soundwave hummed absently in agreement, smirking as Rumble shook a fist up at Buzzsaw who had tagged him. Ravage lay there in silence, confident in the self truth of those words. Killer he may have been, it didn't mean he wasn't thoroughly enjoying the relative peace they were living in. True, his creator was being overprotective, but he had expected it after the…event. He could only marvel at how far Soundwave had come in the two and a half weeks they had been on base. The party a week ago was fun, and rumour had it there would be another in a month.

And Blaster.

It was great to get to know his 'other creator' again, even though the memories he had were so distant and so fractured. The other cassette player was a good mech. It was hard to think of all the times he and his siblings had been sent in to try and kill the Autobots and the other cassettes now, although a month ago it would have been one of the surest things in the universe. It was funny how changing faction meant changing a life. It was slow, but steady.

After all, who would have thought that he and Steeljaw would like to play snakes and ladders in the afternoons while Eject and Rewind cheered them on? That his youngest brother actually enjoyed hanging out with Jazz and Bluestreak? But then again, considering the speed at which Bluestreak and Ratbat spoke at sometimes, it shouldn't have come as a surprise, the feline mused. Not only that, but Rumble and Frenzy were on speaking terms with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker! Of course, the Lamborghini's kept calling the cassette twins 'little glitches,' but there was not too much malice in the tone. Ravage had been taken aback at how the warrior twins had so readily let bygones be bygones. He had thought that they – meaning himself and his siblings – would have been attacked on sight by them.

No, it was the more aggressive minibots they had to watch out for.

Bumblebee was the nicest of the lot, that much was certain. He actively sought the Seekers out as well as the cassettes. Just to say hi, or share a piece of gossip or ask how they were settling in. It was quite comforting. It was funny how Starscream had looked at the VW bug like he was some sort of squishy gel alien the first time this happened.

No, it was Cliffjumper, Huffer, and Gears they had to watch out for. They were the most obvious in their distaste of the ex-Cons. Cliffjumper, being the heavily spiteful mech he could be, regularly did petty actions like try to trip up the cassettes.

Tracks was another issue entirely. His distain was obvious, and it was not the physical attacks he utilised, but verbal and non-verbal movements.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Ravage murmured, "Are you truly going to DJ again?"

Soundwave turned his attention to his eldest and nodded slowly, as if not truly believing it for himself.

"The challenge will be invigorating. I no longer know Blaster's extent of abilities on the holo booth," replied the telepath, ruffling Ravage's mechano ears in affection.

"It'll be awe-inspiring for the rest of my brothers. After all, they never saw when you and Blaster caused fights to break out between mechs who just wanted to come in and see you both."

Soundwave let out a dry chuckle, thinking about his old popularity in the clubs. Memories long filed away came back to him, of the scent of rich high grade, the dancing mech and femme frames as he and Blaster mixed and pounded the music straight from the speakers, grinning at each other to try and out do the other mech. The friendly competition would always make them strive to do their best.

"Ravage, when this happens, do me a favour," Soundwave requested quietly, unable to hide the smirk in his voice.

The black cassette caught onto it and grinned, saying, "Get some footage of the shock?"

"Indeed."

* * *

><p>"It's about time you showed up in my medbay again," growled Ratchet, pointing irately to the nearest medberth as Starscream walked in, scowling slightly.<p>

"I had someone babying me," protested the jet, hopping up on the berth and looking haughtily down at the medic.

Ratchet knew it was an act. He saw right through it but didn't comment. He knew that Starscream was getting back to his normal self. What he hoped for was for Starscream not to retain his backstabbing tendencies. It would be a blow to all the Autobot's tentative trust. Nevertheless, he was a healer, and he was here to finally get rid of the last injury left on Starscream's frame.

The virus in the vocaliser.

It intrigued the medic as to how the Seeker would sound after he completed the operation. Would he be screechy, but less so? His curiosity was prevalent as he got his tools ready, registering the slight nervous shuffling behind him.

"Are you ready?" Ratchet asked, turning around with a sedative line in his hand.

The crimson optics alighted on the line and he chuckled bitterly, "You know, I'm not even sure. I can't even remember what my original voice sounds like sometimes."

Ratchet said nothing, looking at the tricoloured mech with a melancholy expression, offering up the sedative line. With a sigh as if he were looking at an apocalypse, Starscream laid down on the berth, letting the medic secure the line to him and hook up medical scanners to monitor his processor cycles, his spark pumps and pulses, and his general systems. As he stared up at the medbay ceiling, the last thought before he slipped into a sedated recharge was, '_That colour clashes horribly with my paint job.'_

Smirking at the relaxed faceplates of the jet as the sedatives did their work, Ratchet could only marvel how young Starscream looked when he wasn't hiding beneath that mask of defensiveness. Placing any other thought out of his mind, Ratchet transformed his fingers into small tools that carefully made an incision in a seam above the vocaliser housing. Once done, they slowly peeled the layers of metal and metallo mesh apart, revealing the protoform metal and the vocaliser underneath. Pulling back and transforming his fingers back into whole digits, the medic got the small, intricate scanner from the berth side table. This scanner was meant for a vocaliser and for that purpose only. The plug was miniscule, made of delicate and highly conductive crystal found only on Cybertron. Carefully plugging it in, Ratchet sat back and waited for it to do it's magic. It would detect any anomaly, viruses included.

A moment of tenderness came over him when he saw Starscream's relaxed faceplates. He looked so…innocent.

"Poor sparkling," murmured the white and red mech, running a finger down the jaw line. He reflected that it wasn't fair for a mech who had so much potential to be ripped away from innocence: first from Megatron enlisting the Seekers and to fight, and secondly from Megatron assaulting the Seeker before him.

The vocaliser scan beeped and transmitted the finds to Ratchet's terminal, the holoscreen displaying the anomaly virus clearly in red cybertronian glyphs. Turning, his processor clicking over onto 'work mode,' Ratchet looked at the coding, analysing the purpose of which it was there in the vocaliser and how it was implemented, before looking at how to get rid of it. As he did, he frowned.

Something wasn't right here. According to Starscream, the virus was a tool for humiliation, to make him sound screechy. But the strength of the viral coding was too strong for that single purpose. As he set the analyser to destroy the code, a message popped up.

:-Would you like to re-activate the weapon?-:

"Weapon," mused the medic out loud, looking from the terminal to the prone Seeker and then back again. What possible kind of weapon could Megatron had hoped to stop by putting this virus in the flier's vocaliser?

Typing a complex set of codes, the source revealed itself.

He was caught between gaping in astonishment and chuckling. Obviously Starscream's voice was more of a threat to all apart from delivering audial ringing shrieks. According to the scanner and subsequent code reveals, when Starscream went to a certain decibel and got the specialised reverberates in the sides of the vocaliser to resonate enough, they would actually shatter the thin filigree wires and metals that helped to make up mech's audials, as well as any other wires that thin, such as some in the processor. It was no wonder Megatron had the virus implanted. If Starscream had managed to scream loud enough, it would have been enough to incapacitate the warlord from deafness.

Deciding to lift the virus completely, Ratchet initialised the antivirus program and defrag.

When the Seeker woke up, he'd have to ask about that ability. It could be very useful in defeating the Decepticons at last.

* * *

><p>Rumble pouted, sitting in the 'out' corner as Ravage ran around trying to tag Buzzsaw, who was only allowed to fly no more than five feet off the ground to keep it fair. He had been the first tagged and it sucked. He had been waiting for the past ten minutes for someone else to join him on the sidelines. He was bored.<p>

At least, another two minutes later, Ravage finally managed to tackle his twin Frenzy, pinning the red and black cassette, effectively tagging him.

As his twin reached him, Rumble grinned and said, "About time, bro."

Frenzy grumbled, dropping heavily down and saying, "I would have gotten away with it if I hadn't have seen Blaster making googly optics at our creator."

The grin disappeared from the purple cassette and he blurted, "What?"

Pointing over to where Blaster was bobbing his helm as he listened to music in internal speakers, Frenzy said lowly, "Just watch 'im."

Rumble did, wondering what he was watching for. After all, Soundwave was next to Blaster, reading a datapad. On what, Rumble didn't know, but if he searched telepathically, he guessed it was something to do with comm. frequencies. He kept looking. They looked to be two friends chilling out while their creations had a ball playing tag.

"Zee, I don't-"

"Keep watchin'. He's gonna do this look…there!" he whispered excitedly as it happened.

The cassette twins could only watch as Blaster's helm turned ever so slightly to the side, looking in the direction of the visored mech, and smile this little, sappy smile, the blue optics going soft and affectionate. It wasn't there for but a few seconds, but it was enough for the twins.

"Oh…my…Primus," murmured Rumble.

"Yeah. Looks like Blaster's got the hots for our creator," Frenzy said flatly, crossing his arms as Blaster went back to his previous content expression.

Rumble bit his lip and muttered, "We can't know for sure."

"Mech, when a bot starts doing the googly optics like that, you know he's got it bad. Now the real problem is this. We can't let Wave know, and we gotta make sure that we keep an optic on Blaster. I don't want him to do anythin' to our Boss that he ain't gonna like, but agrees anyway cos it's Blaster. We gotta keep this real secret Rumble," Frenzy insisted, red visored gaze locking with his twin in complete sincerity.

Rumble sighed and asked, "Well, it means that when Wave is better that Blaster might make a move."

"Yeah. What do you reckon will happen? And besides, what do you think about? If it _does_ happen, should we let it go ahead, or…eh…'sabotage' 'im?"

"It shouldn't matter as long as Soundwave is happy. If it does get to that, I reckon unless Blaster starts hurting him that we just let it go. Might be nice to have a second creator. As for what'll happen. Mech, I don't know. Dad's gettin' a bit hard to read nowadays," Rumble replied, slinging an arm around his twin and briefly embracing him to lock in the statement.

"But until then, keep an optic out."

"Agreed."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This was painful to write because my muse is heavily rebelling. I hope you liked 'Starscream's special ability.' **

**PLEASE REVIEW! I like to hear what you thought. **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Okay, thanks to Katea-Nui, the muse got back on board for this one. I hope you like it! It's going to be another long one to make up for the short chapter 13. However, it is mostly SW and TC centric because I need to get this screen time out of the way. More Blaster and Soundwave in the next chapter though. **

**Note: This is early due to a mid-semester on Tuesday, which I must study for on Monday. Therefore this was written earlier to take the pressure off. Updating will be back to Monday after this. **

**Warning: Sticky mech/mech consensual. There's another nightmare, but nothing graphic. **

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 14<strong>

* * *

><p>Megatron glared out at the murky depths of the ocean outside his quarters, brooding.<p>

He was furious. Not only had that big, oafish shuttle _pounded _him in battle, but he knew about what had been done to Starscream. Which meant he made a fresh enemy when he really didn't need another one. Add to this that he had no grand plans for action as to what the Decepticons should do as their next move. He should try again, to at least get Soundwave back. At least he'd have half the mental resources back again along with the added bonus of being a new frag-toy. The telepath had been truly delicious.

Hook and Ramjet were trying to come up with a plan, but so far they had proved to be incompetent.

Megatron never thought he would miss his SIC and TIC. Their combined processor power, along with his, was what created the plans.

Growling and fist clenching, the grey warlord resorted himself to placing a call to Cybertron.

It was time for Shockwave to come to Earth.

* * *

><p>'<em>Soundwave…'<em>

_Thudding footsteps._

'_Soundwave. You can't run or hide from me. I claimed you…'_

_Denial. _

_Cracks in a glass. _

_A shattered mirror._

_The blast from a cannon._

_Screams of a most unholy nature. Of pain. Of agony. Of anger. They all echoed around him, the sound filling his audials. It followed him, wherever he ran. It was cold, so cold, hands grabbing at him, trying to touch him in that place. He swatted them away, but it was like he was blind. His visor couldn't be lifted, and yet still he ran. He didn't know where he was going, only that he wanted to be warm. _

'_Mine. Mine. Mine. Tight little...'_

"_No."_

_That was his own voice. It was firm. Stern. Commanding. It challenged the aggressor. _

_Mocking laughter replaced the screams. 'You'll never be able to escape me…because I'm right…here.'_

_Hands captured his hips, digging down into the seams in between his thigh and waist, beginning to assault his interface panel…_

Soundwave sat up, panting. He took a glance around his room, glad to see his creations all in their bunks. He had made them recently, knowing that sometimes they didn't want to be on his berth or in his subspace cassette compartment. They looked at peace. Rumble and Frenzy were curled around each other, Laserbeak's wing over Buzzsaw's, while Ravage curled up with Ratbat snuggling in.

Relaxing slightly, the telepath retracted his visor, rubbing at his amber optics in his exhaustion. He could only thank Primus that this nightmare had been about him, not his cassettes. His cassette nightmares usually had him screaming. His own, he was learning to deal with. Repeated sessions with Prowl, Ratchet, and even a few with Smokescreen – along with Blaster's ever constant support – were helping.

He had to talk to Blaster. It was their standard routine now, even though Soundwave felt guilty for waking his friend up in the middle of the night, the red mech encouraged it as part of the slow healing process.

Shifting, careful not to wake his slumbering cassettes, the blue mech crept out of the room, entering Blaster's. He clicked down his visor as he did so, a habit borne through his years as a Decepticon. Never show your optics to anyone. They can read your emotions.

Blaster was in recharge, but that was to be expected.

Sitting on the edge of the berth, the tape deck reached over and gently shook his friend. "Blaster. Wake."

It took a few more shakes before optics finally dimmed online and focussed on him. "M'what? Wave?"

"Yes," replied the telepath, debating to give a mental nudge. He wanted to go back to recharge after he talked this out, and he was sure Blaster wanted to as well.

With a groan, Blaster sat up, rubbing at the bent horns on his helm and asking, "'Nother nigh'are?"

"Yes."

"Was Megatron dressed up in a lei and a hula skirt in this one? At least it would balance out the horror," Blaster mumbled tiredly, but smirking.

'_Oh Primus Soundwave is so cute when he pouts like that!'_ he thought to himself as Soundwave crossed his arms, staring at him petulantly through that red visor. He chuckled as a hand came out and lightly whacked him on the shoulder.

"I take that to mean you have no interest in my dream and would like to get back to recharge. Farewell," said Soundwave stonily. He knew that Blaster had meant it as a joke, but it hurt a little to think that Blaster thought the nightmare to be so trivial as to make fun of it. The message must of gotten through, and as he rose from the berth, a hand shot out and anchored him there, the other's faceplates morphing instantly to remorse.

"Don't go. I was tryin' to be funny. C'mon, tell me, what happened?" asked Blaster, securing Soundwave's hand back to the berth. He mentally kicked himself. Soundwave was still sensitive, no matter how independent he was getting.

"Very well,' the telepath said quietly, relinquishing his hurt in favour for informing Blaster about what had happened. As usual, Blaster was attentive. Curiosity about whether Blaster was being _honest_ and sincere about listening him took over his processor like an itch he couldn't scratch, and he gave into the temptation to brush a tendril of telepathy over his friend's consciousness. Carefully, he skimmed Blaster's thoughts. He saw and felt anger at Megatron as he continued to talk, saw how protective the boom box was of him. He saw how Blaster was dedicating all his sensors to his talk. A joyful relief filled him at this knowledge, and he concluded his dream summary, having trouble trying to hide his smile.

"Damn. That one's an intense one, but nowhere near as bad as that one you had a few days ago at least. Now…reciting time," said Blaster, injecting his voice with a faux cheeriness that made Soundwave smirk.

"I am not to blame for what was done to me. It was his fault, not mine, his choice, not mine. He cannot hurt me anymore because I want to experience life and continue with it to the best of my ability," recited Soundwave obediently. It was his mantra after every nightmare, even if he felt like a grade-A tool for sounding like a drone. Still, it worked. Conviction was renewed after each recital, and Blaster looked proud of him.

Smiling kindly, Blaster said, "Now there's a mech. Good job. Gonna recharge back in your room or ya wanna chill out here while I drop into relative unconsciousness?"

"Stay for a while," replied Soundwave immediately.

"All right. Nighty night, see ya in the morning," muttered Blaster, back in recharge before his helm hit the pillow.

Soundwave settled on the berth, sitting upright. Thinking. As he so commonly did.

Reviewing his life events in the past few weeks.

His time with his cassettes, being given more freedom as a family here with the Autobots than they ever had in the Decepticon army. They were renewing their familial bonds that had gone stale in the never ending cycle of 'attack-refuel-gather energon-recharge-revenge.' It warmed his spark to see his sparklings so carefree and content. The familial atmosphere in the Ark was strong, even with the few aggressors still bearing a grudge. It was interesting to see. There were gestalts like the Aerialbots and the Protectobots who were one big family with their creator, the inventor Wheeljack. While the fliers may have been more brash, the Protectobots were one of the most tightly knit gestalts he'd ever seen. There was also a lot to be said about the lovers on the Ark. Prowl and Jazz were the most remarkable pair he'd ever had the privilege to see and know. They genuinely loved each other – this he knew without looking into their processors. Other, lesser couples were also observably different from lovers back while in the Decepticon army.

Not to mention how the rec-room was not only a place for gossip and relaxation, it was the social hub. If there was any drama or excitement, it was going down there.

Other social customs he had not been privy to for years had integrated themselves within his life over the past three weeks. It seemed such a long time, but it was also a short one. Memories of his assault still haunted him, but it was if they were more muted. He would never forget, but they would not take over his life. Every now and then, he would feel a phantom pain in his valve, or he wouldn't like his body being too close to another's, but he was finding social distances to be easier to bear. Hugs or touches from his cassettes didn't worry him, neither did touches from Blaster. It was from those he was less comfortable with…

At least Prime had saw fit not to punish him for telepathically shutting down Tracks on the night of the party. All that had happened was Prime ordering the corvette to (although Tracks was grudging about it) apologise.

Looking to Blaster, already back in recharge, a wave of peace settled over Soundwave. Life may not be perfect, but he was _cared_ for. He had a best friend like no other in the universe, and he had gained the trust of Prime and the Autobots as a whole.

The future, needless to say, looked bright.

"Good night, Blaster," he whispered, patting the smooth helm in gratitude and going back to his berth.

Now, if only he could shut out the rather strong telepathic waves from Skywarp and Thundercracker, his second recharge phase would be wonderful.

* * *

><p>"Mmmm…."<p>

"Oooh."

"You are enjoying this far too much."

"Hey, it was _ages _ago that you last gave me a wing massage. Good to see your hands have still got that…mmm…magic touch TC."

Thundercracker smiled at his lover, stroking over the tops of the black wings tenderly. He loved to see that blissed out, relaxed expression on Skywarp's face. He hummed again, working over the centres of the broad expanse. Momentarily, he remembered how mangled these beautiful wings had been on…that night. He must have stopped kneading over the smooth metal, for Skywarp turned and saw the agonised expression on his face.

"Aw, TC, what's the matter?" asked the teleported, shifting up and facing the blue Seeker, sitting so they were both kneeling with their kneejoints touching.

Sighing, Thundercracker replied, "Just…thinking about how that slagger hurt you so much. It…it kills me. Sometimes I wish it would have been me instead."

"No! No, babe, no! I don't want _anyone_ to go through what we did. Especially not you. I'd prefer me over you actually," protested Skywarp, grabbing TC's hand and holding it tightly.

"Why? I could have spared you," replied the blue jet, squeezing back just as tightly.

"Because you hold it all inside. I don't."

"Not true."

"Oh really?" retorted the black and purple flier with a sardonic snort. "Example one. This is the first I've ever really heard about your side of things. Not that I minded being taken care of by you, but you were in that room too. You got traumatised, no matter if you weren't touched."

Crimson optics met ruby, and Thundercracker heaved another sigh, saying, "When did you get so smart?"

"Probably when I got together with you. You rubbed off on me. Sometimes literally!" teased Skywarp, smirking. Letting his lover know that everything was going to be OK.

Skywarp didn't like the sad smile or the grimace on TC's faceplate, so he cupped a cheek, leaning in and softly brushing his lips over the other's. It had taken him all of these two and a half weeks to get comfortable with kissing and touching the way they used to. It was so good to take back his independence and choose to savour in the tender touch of lipplates to lipplates. It took a few chaste kisses, but Thundercracker reached out to embrace him, responding just as gently. After a few passes of those lips on his, Skywarp darted his glossa to flick out, asking for permission. The blue jet hesitated for but a moment, and then gave it, letting him have the control – just as he had on that day of the ritual.

"Warp," breathed Thundercracker, breaking off, but lipplates never fully leaving his lover's even as he spoke. They were optic to optic, nose to nose, lips to lips. Intimacy in each gesture.

"One day soon you're going to tell me how you felt. Not now. You're not there yet. But…I want to…" Skywarp whispered back, laying a kiss on lips again.

Pulling back more, the worried crimson gaze pierced right through to the teleporter's soul. "You mean interface?"

"Yes," replied Skywarp.

"No."

"You won't hurt me," assured the teleporter.

Biting a lower lip, Thundercracker said, "I know that. I don't ever want to do anything to hurt you. I don't think…I don't want to make you more traumatised. By us not doing this, I'm ensuring I'm never going to hurt you. Please."

Pouting, Skywarp replied, "I think I'm ready. My circuits tingle just thinking of you laying me on my back, teasing my ailerons, talking in that wonderful voice of yours as you run your hands over me so gently. And…and then you'd open up my panel, making sure I'm good and ready, before slowly worming your glossa in and – "

"Don't tempt me!" growled the older Seeker, looking away stubbornly, even as Skywarp clung on to him and made their optics look deeply into each other's.

"Love," murmured the black Seeker, brushing a hand over Thundercracker's own powerful wings, the other over the cockpit, "it just goes to show you desire me like you used to. You know how much of a reassurance that is for me? It's huge. Like…bigger than Cybertron huge that you still think me sexy when sometimes I wonder if I am. Please…TC…can we at least try? I want you to love me."

Huffing, Thundercracker knew that he'd never get Skywarp to back down from this. That look in those ruby optics was _exactly_ the same when the teleporter had a prank that just _had_ to be played, and he just _had_ to come along. He didn't say no then, he wouldn't say no then, he wouldn't say no now.

"Fine."

"Really?" asked Skywarp hopefully, grinning.

"Only," warned Thundercracker firmly, frowning, "if you are 100% sure every single step of the way. The one instant you don't like the touch, no matter where it is, tell me. Don't rush. It'll come one day if we don't tonight."

"We will. I have you, TC," replied the younger mech optimistically, leaning in to steal another tender kiss, continuing to stroke over his lover's wings. Thundercracker relaxed, falling into the love offered. He knew that things could go pear shaped if he didn't do this right, and so he also began to touch Skywarp's wings again, but this time drawing symbols in slow slides with his fingers. Skywarp gasped into their kiss as he recognised the Seeker glyphs for '_love,'_ '_protect,' 'refuge,'_ and '_desire.'_ If the older Seeker had paint on his fingers, the glyphs could have been marked there for all to see his intentions.

Fingers tightening momentarily on cerulean wings, Skywarp murmured, "Love you."

"I love _you_," replied Thundercracker, sliding his hands up to shoulder vents, dipping in and circling them around and finding the tiny nodes there. They weren't overly sensitive, but touched long enough could get any flier revving.

"Mmm, circuits are tingling, TC. Make 'em spark."

"Hush you. I'm trying to reduce you to a happy puddle of goo."

Skywarp giggled, loving how his future bonded would talk to him during interfacing. Not dirty talk. No, but words of such sugary sweet and gentle words that he sometimes compared it to having energon goodies for your audials. It seemed to be no different tonight, when Thundercracker whispered to him, "On our bonding night, I'm going to go out and pick a million flowers and spread them on the floor for us to walk over as we come to the berth. There'll be a platter of energon goodies of all sorts, and high grade. Not to mention the edible body oil with infused metallic caramels. I'll pour it all over your pretty shiny cockpit and lick it up. I'll treat you so good."

The teleporter giggled again, squirming in delight as those gentle hands slid to his sides, caressing his wires and hidden sensor bundles reverently. "Tell me more. This is teasing me," whispered Skywarp. This was great! He felt so good as systems dormant came to life with a roar, cooling fans kicking on.

Thundercracker smirked, leaning against his lover until the black Seeker laid back on the berth, relaxing and indulging in his attentions. Moving on to the cockpit, optics watchful for any sign of discomfort, he rubbed light circles there and spoke again, voice lowering as he spoke of what he imagined.

"There's candles. Scented. Burning bright as the smell fills our olfactories, crisp and fresh. I want you so bad, because you look so beautiful, waxed and polished and smiling up at me. You want it."

"Mmm, like I want you right now," murmured the black Seeker, sprawling back and letting his lover take care of him like he wanted to.

"Right. I massage your wings more because I know how much it makes you relax," purred Thundercracker, getting into this, letting go of all doubts and fears and doing as he had said, hands going back to the pretty black and purple wings which bore Skywarp high in the sky with him when they flew together. It was glorious. He remembered the first time they'd tried interfacing in the air – it had been one of the best experiences in their lives.

Skywarp fluttered his wings as best he could while they were touched. The warmth of his lover's hands made his sensor nodes tremble in excitement. "TC," he murmured lovingly, bringing his own hands up to stroke over his lover's body, travelling to all the gaps which hid sensors and over the smooth, clean lines of plating.

Thundercracker hummed again, leaning his weight on his lover and lowering his mouth to the base of the neck and pouring out kisses in a never ending stream over the cockpit and chestplates.

"Thunder…" gasped the younger mech, writhing slightly.

Darting a glance up to make sure this was pleasure, not pain, the blue mech continued to kiss and lick that area. He could feel Skywarp's frame respond to him in the most delicious of ways. It was tempting to go faster, but to do so was the crescendo of idiocy. He would never hurt his lover like that.

Dark purple hands stroked over Thundercracker's helm and the tips of his wings lovingly. It felt more natural then he thought it would be to ignite their passions.

But then again, this was only touching. Skywarp was a bit nervous about them actually opening their panels.

"So sexy," purred the elder Seeker, shifting down a bit more, checking his progress against the other mech's reactions, now kissing over the lower abdomen. He felt Skywarp tense up slightly, and then relax. He stroked over the outside of a thigh comfortingly. No pressure. Just there. "Remember, we can have a break or stop if you don't want to go any further," he reassured.

Skywarp smiled brightly at him. "Thanks TC, but I'm loving the way you touch me."

Chuckling, Thundercracker asked innocently, "What do you feel like tonight? Would you like me to ride you until we both collapse into a hot, melted mess, or would you like me to take you so slowly that you'll clutch my wings and beg me to help you overload?"

"Gnngh…what to choose," moaned Skywarp as a sensor bundle in his hip was toyed around with by a warm glossa.

Sniggering once more, the blue mech teased, "Decide or I might just decide to give you oral all night long so I can taste you."

The black and purple flier whimpered at the thought, but really, really wanted to be connected with his lover. "Umm….ooh….in me? Please TC?"

"Your wish is my command," purred Thundercracker, finally skimming his lips over the interface panel area and darting his glossa out to lap a few times at the hot metal. He could smell the sweet scent of lubricant and the tang of other conducive oils and circuitry. He was accustomed to the smell of his lover's fluids, but it didn't matter. Each time he wanted to taste. It was like the most luxurious drug.

The touch there was amazing after weeks of not a whisper of true sexual activity. Skywarp spread his legs wider, fully trusting his lover like no other. The lapping of the glossa and the sensual touches up and down the side of his shapely legs were beginning to drive him wild, his systems running hot.

"TeeeCeee," moaned Skywarp, squirming as the licks to his closed panel got more coaxing and more insistent.

"I can hear you, feel you, see you, smell you, taste you. You are my beautiful Seeker, Skywarp," murmured Thundercracker, looking up and connecting with those lustful ruby optics, glowing bright with nothing but pure, liquidated pleasure.

"Ahh," came the pleasured sigh, the teleporter's interface panel slowly sliding open.

He felt self conscious for a moment, and he craned his neck to see his lover's reaction to his components. Oh sure, he hadn't been touched there, but the thought of what could have been if Starscream hadn't of interrupted made him shy.

Thundercracker sensed this, and he placed a kiss in the middle of the valve and spike housing, murmuring, "Still untouched, still beautiful. Still all mine for the loving."

Skywarp relaxed, the exhalations of his lover ghosting over his equipment arousing and comforting. He released his spike, letting it extend, half pressurised. He looked it over like he had never seen it before as the other mech nuzzled along it, hands still massaging his thighs to anchor him. The touch on his spike made it pressurise fully, those nuzzles soft and welcoming.

"Missed this," murmured TC.

"Missed you," replied Skywarp.

"Hmm," mumbled the blue flier, moving one hand to cup the bared valve, feeling the lubricant pooling there that he was hoping for. He left his hand there as he darted his glossa out to swipe along the spikes nodes, hearing a small, happy whimper and continued, licking up and down the length in his hands, hearing the continued moans of encouragement from his lover. Skywarp's hands clutched at his helm, urging him closer.

"Want me to take you in?"

"Umm…yeah. Just…uh…" murmured the black Seeker bashfully.

"What, Warp?" asked the elder mech kindly.

Biting his lower lip, he mumbled, "This sounds silly, but let me know if…y'know. I hurt you."

"You'll never hurt me. Just like I'll never hurt you," replied Thundercracker, kissing up the proud spike, feeling it throb under his ministrations, and finally enclosing his mouth around the very tip.

Sensation suddenly exploded along his sensor net, whole body tingling as his spike was swallowed down by a hot mouth. Skywarp moaned, optics flickering as the feel of that wet warmth around his length shot all his defences to pieces. He had forgotten how good it was for a lover to do this to him, for him. Relishing in the feel, he stayed as still as possible. In the back of his mind, he knew that if he jerked up too hard he could hurt Thundercracker, and he didn't want to do that at all.

"TC," Skywarp whispered.

"MMppf?" came the hummed inquiry. His mouth was busy as it slid up and down the silver spike slowly, glossa flicking at any sensor nodes on the underside ridges on the way.

"Uhhh…more."

At the passionate reply, Thundercracker bobbed a little faster, sucking wetly around it. The tang of pre fluid registered, and his hand over the valve entrance felt a little more wetness. With as much caution he could, he slipped a finger partway into the tight channel, sliding it around the sensor nodes he had memorised in their time together, coaxing his lover to give in and let overload take him, loosen him up.

The finger in his valve felt good, not weird or uncomfortable at all, and Skywarp unintentionally bucked up, arching his back and letting his helm drop back to the berth in his pleasure, rolling the callipers and muscle cables in his valve.

Pulling off the slick spike, the blue Seeker smirked. "Looks like you're having too much fun sweetling."

Skywarp wriggled, the finger in his valve stopping. "I want you so much. I missed you _so_ much."

"And the way we'd face like petro-bunnies everyday might have had something to do with it," purred Thundercracker, teasingly taking his finger out of the wet opening and then plunging it deep again. He so loved to see the other flier desperate for more stimulation. The look on the mech's face was always so arousing to look at. The half closed optics, dimmed with pleasure, bottom lip bitten to stop from crying out with ecstasy.

Daring to help stretch out the valve, the blue mech slid another finger in alongside the other, allowing a few seconds for adjustment and going back to his lover's spike, grazing his denta along it before kissing around the base. The familiar weight along his cheek was wonderfully warm. Fondly, he recalled a time when he had merely nuzzled Skywarp's spike and he had overloaded over his helm and face in sticky strings of transfluid.

"Ooh," breathed the younger flier. His circuits were humming with arousal, sensors singing with joy at the touches inside of him. He was sure that he producing enough lubricant to soak TC's fingers, he felt that wet.

Thundercracker continued to stretch out the valve, preparing for him. Even if Skywarp did call a halt to their actions, he would still try to be as gentle with him until that point. He curled his fingers, taking them out and then looking up into those ruby optics.

"I'm going to open my panel. If you see me and then freak, we won't interface, right love?"

He had to double check. This was the moment which would determine his next actions.

Shifting so that he was kneeling in between his lover's splayed legs, Thundercracker kept his optics on Skywarp, whose chest and cockpit rose and fell with each intake as they gazed at each other.

"Show me," whispered Skywarp seductively, grinning, even as lubricant dripped off the edges of his valve and to the berth in his anticipation.

The clicks of the catches undoing were unnaturally loud, and the panel slid back, the thick spike sliding out to proudly jab the air with its girth. It strained, throbbing, looking for its home seated somewhere soft and warm and clenching. The elder Seeker found himself anxious as Skywarp boldly ran his optics over him, over his erection.

"Well…the only thing I can say with certainty that I don't think I'll be going down on you with a while. Pity, you loved it so much," commented Skywarp, dragging his stare back to warm crimson optics.

"I don't care about it now. Whether I liked it or not aside, I will do whatever it is to make you comfortable when we are intimate together. I don't care if you never use your mouth around me ever again as long as I can be with you," replied Thundercracker, stroking a hand up the thigh and over the aerodynamic frame to caress Skywarp's cheek.

"You really don't mind?"

"Not at all. Don't ever think or feel guilty because you can't give me that one aspect of pleasure. You know I love bringing you to the heights of overload more anyway," said the blue mech with an affectionate rub against the other's face.

Skywarp smiled, looking back down to his lover's thick spike. It was average in length, but that girth…the sight of it made his valve clench wonderfully. He had no doubt in his mind that he wanted Thundercracker there, filling him in all of the best ways. He wasn't afraid of it standing erect, or most likely in his valve. In his mouth would be a different story. It touched him that Thundercracker didn't care about his new aversion to giving blowjobs.

"Please. Be with me," the younger flier murmured, wrapping one leg around his lover's hips and nudging insistently.

"If you have no doubts…"

"Not a one."

Thundercracker smirked and purred, "Shutter your optics. _Feel._ This belongs to me and no other."

Skywarp shivered in delight and did so, linking one hand with Thundercracker's as the other hand gripped his hips to steady him. His free hand twisted into the sheets of their berth as the blunt head nudged at his entrance, gathering lubricant on the head, before ever so slowly sinking in – pushing past the soaked rim and deep into the hot channel. Once seated, they both released relieved sighs, leaning into each other, tangling each other's bodies and EM fields delectably. Thundercracker nuzzled his lover, kissing him as he gently ground his hips against the others in a friction to cause sparks to leap, spike and valve fitting perfectly together.

"Won't last long," whispered Skywarp, raising his hand from the berth to cling to a fluttering blue wing.

"Good," purred the royal blue mech back.

They began, not so much as thrusting as rocking together in bliss, each shift a pleasure to their hot and aroused systems crying for more stimulation. Thundercracker found the soft vulnerability that Skywarp only displayed in interface endearing as the younger mech writhed under him, making soft mewling sounds as they moved together.

"So beautiful and slick for me, lover," murmured Thundercracker with a moan, swivelling his hips in deep and making sure to hit every node in his spike's path.

"TC," moaned the teleporter, feeling his stretched opening clench down. It was so wonderful. He had forgotten how pleasurable interfacing could be in the whirlwind of the past few weeks.

They took their time, moving slow and sensual with each other, sharing kisses and touches that only they knew for the other. They moaned, Skywarp mewled and Thundercracker purred, encasing his arms around his younger lover and embracing him as he continued to shift in and out of the valve. He didn't even get half-way out in his pace, but there was no need to. This was not a frenetic want. It was a comforting need to be sated by the connection between them as they touched each other's most intimate wires, dipping under plating to stimulate the circuits that were humming in their ardour, cooling fans working to their maximum. The scent of interface was heavy and musky in the air, permeating the room.

"Still alright Warp?" asked Thundercracker, looking deep into the other's optics as his hands caressed the well mapped contours of the black and purple frame.

"Fan-fraggin'-tastic," breathed Skywarp, arching up and clutching hard to his lover as he felt his overload approach. His sensor net was buzzing in preparation for the release as the member inside him worked him over so tenderly.

Thundercracker chuckled at the comment, grinding just a fraction faster and harder, still careful.

Overload crept up on them, having both Seeker's teetering between prolonged pleasure and release, until Skywarp gave in first, mewling and keening softly as his climax washed over him, back bowing, head thrown back, clenching down tight around the blue jet, lubricant slicking their rocking hips even more. He sagged, lax from the strong overload as Thundercracker gave a long, low cry, hilting himself and pumping his fluid straight into Skywarp's valve, the heat sending pleasant aftershocks along their sensor nodes. They gasped as the elder mech pulled out, gathering his lover in his arms as they rolled to the side, spent, sated, and relaxed.

They were content not to speak for a while, simply touching each other, stroking, caressing in post-coital affection, optics to optics. Finally, Skywarp tilted his helm to press a light kiss and whisper, "I love you so much."

"As I love you too. Are you sure you were fine?" Thundercracker asked, concern clear and present in his tone.

"Mmm-hmm. Wonderful. Felt so good," purred the teleporter, curling and cuddling up closer to the other's warm frame, petting the other's doorwings. "It felt right, TC. No fear."

"Good," mumbled the blue mech in reply, once again wrapping his lover in his arms in a protective gesture that made Skywarp's spark melt.

"Talk tomorrow?"

Knowing that it was more of a requirement than a request, Thundercracker replied, "Yes. For you. Now recharge. You need it sweetling."

Skywarp smiled, but cuddled closer, nuzzling into TC's neck and letting the calming energy of recharge claim him.

* * *

><p>Rumble growled as something poked him in his side insistently. According to his chronometer, it was still an hour and a half before he was required to get up. He felt something poke him again and he growled, "Wha'?"<p>

"Come on glitch-head, we were supposed to meet Sunstreaker and Sideswipe by now!"

The hissed voice in his audio reminded him why he was waking up at such an ungodly hour. It was pranking day.

Grumbling, swatting away his twins hand as he got up and clambered down from his shared bunk, Rumble crept out of their room, Frenzy following, both their optics lit in a wicked glee. They went out of their room and snuck through the halls of the Ark until they reached their destination in front of the command centre, where the familiar forms of the twin frontliners were waiting.

"About time," groused the golden one.

"Oh shut it," griped Frenzy right back, retrieving a datapad from subspace. "Rumble's damn near impossible to wake up. Sleeps like the Pit."

"So does Sunny. Adds to his disposition, dontcha think?" teased Sideswipe, smirking as he ducked a thrown punch.

"Yeah yeah. C'mon, let's just get this over with. I want this to be the one everybot remembers," said Rumble, grinning, matching expressions of mischief on his accomplices faces.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope you thought the scene with TC and Sky wasn't too fast. I think they would be the first couple to rebound sexually, so I thought that it was enough time for it to happen, but I would like to hear your thoughts. **

**Pranking time. Lord help us all from two sets of twins X3**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	15. Chapter 15

So…this prank. Pretty standard, but I had fun writing it. This one is more Blaster and Soundwave centric towards the end, but I needed to get Skyfire and Starscream to establish themselves more in this story, because before now, they've been bitchy to my muse.

**A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL MY REVIEWERS! I love you all and all your encouragements. And those who wished me luck on my mid-semester exam. I'm going to get over 170 reviews! I'm so stoked! *happy dance***

**Warnings: **Would you believe me if I said there were none? I don't own transformers**. **

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 15<strong>

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><p>"<em><strong>PIT-SPAWNED, CURSED, DAMNABLE TWINS!"<strong>_

The yell was so thunderous, so furious, that all residents of the Ark that had been in a peaceful recharge woke instantly, looking around blearily.

The same was true for Blaster, optics cracking open at the shout and sitting up, trying to pinpoint the owner of that voice as he climbed out of his berth. Yawning as his cassettes popped out of his chest compartment, he heard footsteps head toward him so he opened his door to reveal a cross and harried looking Soundwave.

"The twins were not in their berths," the visored mech said tightly, turning and heading out of their quarters.

"Ya think they-"

"I don't know what to think," Soundwave cut off, caught between anger at Rumble and Frenzy and fear for them. What had they done to warrant such a yell? If they had pulled a prank, he would gladly hand them over to Prime or Prowl to deal with.

"It didn't sound like Ratchet. He's usually more colourful when he swears," commented Blaster idly, quickening his pace to keep up with his worried friend.

Soundwave made a noncommittal sound and turned another corner, stopping stock still at the place where many other Autobots had congregated.

Glued to the ceiling with what looked to be blue-drying superglue and held with masking tape, were Cliffjumper and Gears. Cliffjumper had been painted a lurid shade of green decorated with little yellow and pink hearts while Gears had been painted all grey, a grey human bucket glued to his helm. Across it was written in a stylish script 'Queen bitch-face.' To add insult to both minibots, sloppily painted Decepticon symbols were displayed on their chestplates. Both minibots were cursing and snarling, undecipherable because of the sheer venom in their tones.

Optimus Prime finally came up, the mechs quieting as he arrived.

"Who did this?" the great blue and red mech asked quietly.

Growling, Cliffjumper spat, "The twins! Both sets!"

"You mean Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Rumble and Frenzy?" Optimus asked to clarify. At firm nods from the minibots, Optimus immediately broadcast a comm. and said, "Both twins, if you come forward now, both sets of punishments will be reduced slightly."

It was still silent as most mechs gawked and some held their hands to their mouths to keep from sniggering at the bound and helpless minibots.

A small voice piped up, "So Prime, what kinda punishment?"

Optimus looked towards the sound and saw both sets of twins sauntering – for there was no other word for it – down the hall toward them. He was glad he had a battle mask. It hid his smirk. He had truthfully expected something like this sooner or later, and could only be glad that they had started with something not too dangerous. This was usually par for the course with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

Before he pronounced punishment, he took the time to look at his resident telepath and ask, "Soundwave, do you object to any punishment I will give?"

"Negative," replied Soundwave.

Looking back to the smirking, guilty faces of both twins, he pronounced, "Sideswipe and Frenzy, you will both work together to clean out the brig, while Sunstreaker and Rumble must strip the paint off Gears and Cliffjumper and repaint them in their usual colours. After that, both sets of twins will also refrain from any more pranking for at least two weeks. If you do, then you will also have to polish the exterior of the Ark."

The look on the four mechs faces told him that they weren't going to prank due to the threat. The exterior was quite large and would be incredibly time consuming.

"You got it sir," Sideswipe replied, although the cheeky glint in his optics remained as he saluted his commander.

"Dismissed everybody then," announced Optimus, looking around at all the Autobots.

He wasn't surprised when Soundwave came up to him and motioned for them to talk. He nodded and followed his newest comm. officer. Soundwave led him outside the Ark and stopped, regarding him in silence.

"Is the punishment to your liking?" Optimus asked quietly, letting the other mech have the permission to be open.

"Yes," replied Soundwave, retracting his mask, "it is not that which concerns me."

Inclining his helm, the Autobot leader mentioned for the telepath to go on.

Soundwave chose his words carefully and said, "I am concerned about the retaliation. Once both minibots are free once more, there is no guarantee that they will not attack my creations. My creations are competent on their own with another opponent. But not if it is a gang attack. To be truthful I am troubled that such attacks may have larger force than necessary and damage my cassettes."

Again, Optimus was glad for his own mask. It hid the soft expression on his features. The mech in front of him may have been an enemy, but it was so uplifting to his spark to see that he had managed to slip into a routine here on the Ark and even feel comfortable enough to come to him with his concerns. It showed the development at just how well Soundwave and his family were adjusting and healing. It held hope for the future of Cybertron. "If any such attacks do occur, rest assured that the offenders will be punished accordingly. But I doubt they will get in range of your creations."

The blue mech tilted his helm and asked, "Why do you say that sir?"

Chuckling, Optimus replied, "They have their own protectors now. I'm sure that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker will be protective enough to hold back any attacks on your own twins, and I know that the Seekers, Blaster, Prowl, Jazz, and myself will look out for any dissent. You are an Autobot now. You are one of my own soldiers and I care for each and every precious spark."

The taller mech was gratified by a small, slow smile on Soundwave's face.

"I used to think you were soft for thinking that. That such a trait in a leader would not give purpose to any cause. I am glad for being proven wrong…it keeps your faction banded together." There was a note of wonder in the telepath's voice as he said the words, expression open and honest.

"That it does, Soundwave, that it does."

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><p>"Starscream, you've been in here ever since your operation."<p>

"And?"

"Do you remember what fresh air even feels like? I know you're probably going stir-crazy from not flying for that amount of time."

"If you feel like living Skyfire, shut up."

Huffing in exasperation – although not entirely displeased that Starscream was acting like his usual snarky self – the shuttle retorted, "By Primus Starscream, is this about your voice? It's nothing to be embarrassed about! It's no longer as high or as raspy, and it actually more pleasant than your previous voice, like it was in our Science Academy days."

Snarling, wings twitching irritably, the Seeker said, "Pardon me if I don't feel like being teased for it. Pardon me for just wanting to focus on being _me_ again. Science keeps me grounded, you glitch of a friend, don't you see that?"

Ignoring the insult and letting it roll off him, Skyfire pleaded, "Please, just come to the rec-room for energon and then a flight. I'm glad you seem to be getting better, but you hold _everything_ in."

"No I don't."

"Well…true, you were pretty vocal about your takeover bids and distain for a certain someone," commented Skyfire, watching as the other flier's gaze snapped to his own. After a moment, Starscream smirked, making a noise of amusement and saying, "Maybe that is correct."

Skyfire smiled and stood, watching as he could see his friend's processor ticked over, looking at the pros and cons of leaving the lab.

He was only glad that Starscream had transitioned back mostly to his normal self. Looking back on the days that Starscream first came to base, they were both overly clingy and melodramatic. In many ways, Starscream deserved to have such a reaction – abuse was no laughing matter and could change people – but he had only exacerbated it. Shaking his helm to rid himself of the thoughts, he walked to Starscream and placed a gentle hand on a shoulder vent.

"You need the fresh air. Let's go for a flight, hmm?"

Sighing, Starscream turned and snapped, "Fine, I'll go out, but if I hear one tease or insult I'll…I'll…"

"What?" Skyfire goaded teasingly.

Pursing his lips, the tricolour jet said, "Make you make me energon goodies. If I hear one insolent murmur, then you are making me goodies, and I want to eat them _all_."

Their optics locked in a stalemate before Starscream smirked, Skyfire smiled, and both began to chuckle.

"What if I burn them?"

Starscream rolled his optics. It was good to know that, no matter the year, Skyfire could always manage to be a pure goofy scientist when he wanted to be.

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><p>Blaster grinned and jumped on his couch next to Soundwave, asking, "So…we got the rest of the day off, the party is in a week, the twins are away, and everyone else is out and about. Anything you wanna do? Go out, wander around the Ark, anything? The time is ours! Or rather, yours if ya want to do something by yourself, it's cool with me."<p>

Looking up from his journal datapad – Smokescreen had made is a requirement after their first session – the visored mech looked to his friend and asked tentatively, "I would like to go to the national park. To think. I've heard it is…quite enchanting."

Blaster had to ignore the way Soundwave said 'enchanting.' The tone was so wistful and soft he thought he would leap on the other mech and cuddle him. Restraining his impulse, he nodded in agreement. "Sure thing. You want me to come with ya?"

"Yes, please. I wouldn't have it any other way," replied Soundwave, letting his mouth tilt in a little smile, taking Blaster's hand and tugging him up .

"And I think I know just the mech who's willing to give a tape deck and a boom box a ride," said the red mech, taking the lead and going out of their quarters.

Fifteen minutes later, after a willing Hound had transported them to his favourite spot, Blaster and Soundwave found themselves sitting at the edge of a river surrounded by trees and other flora, a waterfall not too far away feeding the water to the bubbling river at their pedes. It felt like they were in their own little world, so encased they were by the dense foliage of the surrounds. Blaster stepped down the bank a bit, finding a nice large, flat rock to sit on, lying back on it and merely looking serenely up at the sky, relaxing.

Not content to sit still, wanting to explore for a few minutes, Soundwave picked his way down the bank, more towards the waterfall. His progress was slow as he stopped to observe the state of nature around him. The tranquillity that was a balm to the restlessness he could feel sometimes in his spark. His fingers were careful with the delicate plants he could so easily crush, the life pulsing in every cell – it boggled his processor as to why he had been so blind to the small things like this in life. Appreciation, true and genuine, came out in each action. Making his way to the base of the waterfall, Soundwave let the mist fall over his visor as he stared up towards the top. If he had been as tall as Skyfire, his helm would have been level with the top of it. The waterfall was such a rare find. It was entrancing…beautiful.

For the first time in a long time he was inspired to write a lullaby.

Making his way back to Blaster's rock, he sat down quietly next to him and retrieved his journal datapad, lyrics filling his mind as inspiration flowed through him, present in the nature.

Blaster didn't talk or look over what he was doing, letting him have his space, and listening to music on internal speakers.

Finishing his frantic typing, the blue mech took a moment to look over the words, making some adjustments and tweaks, before nodding, satisfied. A flash of colour in the corner of his visor made him look up. Blaster was now sitting up.

"Song-writing?" Blaster asked, leaning forward, completely comfortable.

"How did you know?"

Those blue optics seemed to smile as Blaster replied, "You would always write our lyrics like that back on Cybertron. It took over your mind so much. Heck, sometimes you would even ignore your energon if a wording of a phrase or rhyme wasn't right and you would spend time getting it right."

"Well, it was refreshing. I haven't written lyrics in so long," murmured the telepath, becoming comfortable in this peaceful place, showing all that was _right_ with this world.

"You know what else is refreshing?" asked the boom box playfully, waggling his optic ridges for comic effect.

"Mmm?" the tape deck smirked back.

"Jumping in the river. It's just deep enough so it'll just cover us, and current doesn't look that strong today. And it's _so_ nice."

"You just want the opportunity to…what is the term? 'Dunk' me," muttered Soundwave flatly, but his visor shone with his own playful glint. He was rarely playful, but he was now.

He was going to blame the peaceful surroundings on it later.

Blaster laughed, throwing his helm back as he did. "Ya got me! Now, let's enjoy the peace while we got it. Later, you can bring your creations here. I'm sure they'll love it as much as mine do."

They both slipped into the water, Blaster showing Soundwave how to lean on the bank so that they weren't completely covered, before he treaded water and scooped a handful of water up, dumping it on his friend. The telepath looked so utterly confused that he explained that it was a game. You splash the other in an attempt to 'win.'

The face full of water he copped from Soundwave swinging his arm through the water made him splutter.

"Like that?" he heard Soundwave ask. There was no mistaking the hint of play.

"Oh it's war," he promised, pushing his palms forward, a burst of water just missing the navy mech as he moved to the side.

Soon they were playing like younglings, splashing each other however they could. Blaster even gathered some in his mouth and squirted it through his denta at Soundwave, who made a grunting noise, nasal ridge screwing up in an adorable expression that Blaster had to giggle at. It earned him another dousing of water as his friend paddled his hands to make the water froth and slop everywhere. They were laughing as they continued.

Soundwave didn't know how long they were tangled in their childish game before they hauled themselves back onto the riverbank, still chuckling. He couldn't remember a time that he had laughed or smiled so much.

It was like all his troubles had become meaningless and had been cleansed from him in this river of fun.

"Whoo! I almost think you beat me 'Wave," chuckled Blaster, flopping lethargically, water running in rivulets off his frame.

"No doubt, I did. After all…Soundwave is superior," replied Soundwave, mimicking his own monotone, making the red mech snort with fresh giggles.

"Main machine, you are priceless."

Soundwave made a noise of satisfaction, laying beside his friend, leftover water slowly dried by the sun streaming like golden beams through the trees. They said nothing for a while, merely enjoying each other's company. The telepath could feel his own contentment as well as Blaster's, and felt so comfortable. Comfortable enough to open up. To speak about how he felt.

"I am glad. Before this I was feeling…discontent. Perhaps…anger," Soundwave murmured, shifting to turn his helm. Blaster did to so that they were visor to optic.

"Anger?" inquired the boom box.

"At…Megatron. For what he did for me. Lately I've been wanting…to hurt something, but it's really him I want to hurt. To hunt. To kill so he could atone for his crimes. But I want to believe I've changed. Not to be so cold in my actions. I want justice."

"It's understandable," Blaster said quickly, "and justice will be seen. We can't rush though. If we do, he might slip through our digits. We have to end the war. Then and only then can he be held accountable." It almost pained him to say it. He would have felt the same if he had been violated too, and he felt like he was kicking a puppy with his words.

Soundwave nodded reluctantly. "I know," he murmured quietly. "Thank you Blaster, for being you. Being my friend."

Blaster's optics softened and he murmured, "Aw, it's nothing. You know that."

Visor dimming as he relaxed once more, Soundwave let his lips curve in a smile for a flicker of a moment before looking back at the sky as it began to darken as evening approached. "We must get back," he commented. He did not want to leave this place. It was peaceful. It was beautiful. It seemed to speak right to his spark. The red mech sensed this and he assured, "We'll come back in our free time. We can even camp out here as long as Prime knows."

"I'd like that."

As they stood and walked back out of the forest, Blaster took the time to appreciate his secret love. Soundwave's plating shone in the light of the setting sun, he looked relaxed, and even happy. There was a softer set to his expression and his movements were sure, confident. Such a far cry from the mech who had arrived here, bent and broken, just over three weeks ago. However, there was still more recovery to be done.

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><p>Frenzy breathed a sigh of relief as he and Sideswipe tossed their cleaning brushes into the bucket of solvent. He and his fellow prankster were finally done for the night. Something that had been niggling at him all day finally came back to the front of his processor.<p>

"Hey Siders?"

"Yeah Zee?"

"You know how Prime said that we weren't allowed to play any more pranks for the next two weeks?"

"Yes," Sideswipe drawled in a cheeky way, smirking. He knew where this was going.

"Will we be in trouble if the stuff we set up _before_ the punishment happens to go off?"

"Nope! And that's the best part," grinned Sideswipe, receiving a return smirk.

"Can't wait to see the look on Tracks' face when he realises we swapped out his premium wax for a mix of olive oil and clear, but black drying polish," snickered Frenzy. Sideswipe only sniggered with him. This had to be one of the best pranking partnerships of all time.

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><p><strong>AN: Reviews please! I told you I'd have more Blaster and Soundwave in this. You like?**


	16. Chapter 16

A/N Hey everyone. I know this chapter is late *ducks thrown stones*, but for those who follow me on LJ, you'd know that I've been through some crap lately. I think I'm finally out of my funk, so here's a chapter for you guys. For this one, I wanted to go back out into the main cast of characters, even though this fic is mainly about Soundwave and Blaster.

_Italics are the dreams_. You know I do not own Transformers.

AND OH MY GOSH OVER 200 REVIEWS! Thanks you guys *hugs* :D

**Warnings: **Remembered torture in one of the dreams. No sex though.

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 16<strong>

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><p><em>They were back at the waterfall again. Blaster leaned back into the soothing spray, his optics closed in bliss. It was like the water was massaging his muscle cables, and it felt wonderful. Opening his optics again, he grinned as he looked at the mech staring at him from the riverbank. <em>

_Soundwave was on his side, gaze riveted on him, mask retracted and with a smile of his own. He was coyly offering an energon goodie, and if his visor was up, Blaster would have been sure that those optics were glinting in that rare mischief that had been passed down from creator to creation and was seen in Rumble and Frenzy. He moved forward, coming out of the river, water dripping off his frame as he lay next to the visored mech. He crooked his finger, and Soundwave levered himself up to lay, half over him, fingers presenting the goodie to him mouth._

"_Hungry are you?" asked Soundwave, voice deceptively neutral._

"_Mmm-hmm," hummed Blaster, opening his mouth patiently, daring. _

_The telepath merely chuckled and placed the goodie between his lips, using his hand to gently shut his mouth closed. The red mech made a small sound of delight as he chewed on the goodie, sweet energon bursting out of the treat and making his taste sensors tingle. "Mmm…so very sweet my main machine."_

_The visor clicked up, and Blaster sighed as his optics alighted on those beautiful pools of amber. His lover rolled so now the darker frame was above him, those amber optics shining with both warmth and a hint of a tease. _

"_I can give you something sweeter," murmured Soundwave, moving his face down a little, closer to Blaster's own. _

"_Oh really?" teased the boom box, using the opportunity to hook his arms around the other mech's neck._

"_Yes."_

"_Prove it," challenged Blaster._

_With his smirk turning into a happy, silly grin, Soundwave replied, "I shall."_

_His face lowered, coming closer, closer, he could feel the warm ex-vents, loose himself in those gorgeous optics, and Blaster sighed as those lips finally descended on his own, first brushing, and then crushing them together…_

_~/~_

Blaster sat up in his berth, panting. '_Oh Primus, what a dream. Crap, gotta shield my thoughts.'_ He groaned and leaned forward, resting his face in his palm. He concentrated on tucking all amorous thoughts of his friend firmly behind a mental barrier. He would not let Soundwave know that he was in love until he was further along in his healing. His conscience wouldn't allow it. Throwing the cover off, he stretched, some muscle cables giving whines of protest from his disuse in the hours of recharge.

Letting his cassettes pop out of his chest compartment, Blaster greeted them and patted each helm as they wandered out of his berthroom.

He really was quite lucky to have them. They all understood him and knew when he needed to be alone.

Like right now.

Swinging his legs so that he was sitting on the edge of his berth, Blaster rubbed the corners of his optics to get himself to focus.

Being with Soundwave for the past three and a half weeks had been a rollercoaster of events. He regretted none of it. Especially when Soundwave was beginning to smile more often, open up just that little bit more, coming to him and telling him about the nightmares, and was more willing to do things and be outside of these quarters. The red and yellow mech could only be glad that the tape deck had made other acquaintances on the ship. He knew that Soundwave and Prowl had a budding friendship, and that Jazz was always up for a chat too. Not to mention that Prime saw it as his duty to talk to each ex-Con.

Brushing a fingertip over his mouth, Blaster shuttered his optics and sighed – he could still feel the imagined pressure of the other split-spark's lips against his own, still remember those beautiful amber optics.

"Stop. It's not gonna be good for 'Wave if he finds out now. Besides, those amber optics are long gone. Probably turned 'em red when he went to the Con's," Blaster rationalised aloud, getting up and stretching once more before heading out of his berthroom.

His cassettes were having their own energon around the table when he came in, and he grabbed his own ration, noticing a datapad left on the couch. He picked it up, and read the note printed: '_Gone to see Prowl. Cassettes training with Jazz. I will see you at comm. duty later – SW.'_

"Blaster, what are our duties today?" asked Steeljaw, drawing the split-spark's attention.

"Well Steelie, Red Alert needs a small pair of servos to help him in rewiring some of the proximity sensors, so I want you and Rewind to go help him out. And…I think Eject's got to go with Trailbreaker to escort someone from the city to…somewhere. Prowl volunteered our services. Apparently this human is important. Ramhorn, you get to help Ironhide today in testing out the new battle drones. Everybody cool?" asked Blaster, ticking off each job mentally.

"What about you Boss?" asked Rewind.

"Me? Well, I'm helping Jazz plan the party this Saturday after he's done with 'Wave's guys, but I'm on comm. duty for most of the day."

"You going to be able to concentrate?" Steeljaw asked shrewedly, making his creator grin.

"Probably not, but it's a nice view! Now, ten-hut my little monsters, we're burning daylight!" ordered Blaster with a smirk, making his creations laugh. They loved it when he was a silly mech.

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><p>"He's very good with them."<p>

"Undoubtedly."

"He so does enjoy having new recruits to teach. And I also believe he is relishing the challenge of going up against them because they managed to slip past our defences many times."

"I taught them well. Survival of the fittest."

Optics sliding from Jazz sparring and taking all six of Soundwave's cassettes at once, Prowl said, "But of course. They had to be good to appease your last leader, lest you all be punished."

Soundwave fought a shiver at the thought of Megatron punishing his creations. "They are brilliant. This is everything they've ever really known. It stands to reason that they are good at it."

"Quite. I think we'll leave them to it. I'm sure Jazz will let me know when they are done. Would you mind coming into my office? There are some things I wish to discuss with you," asked Prowl, gaze neutral under the crimson chevron. Soundwave took one last look at his cassettes, seeing their determination and feeling how they relished the challenge, and nodded, turning to follow the Praxian to the office he was coming to know quite well now.

Once in the office, Soundwave sat in the chair before the desk like usual as Prowl settled into his own.

"First of all…how have you been faring lately? Are your sessions with Smokescreen progressing well?" asked the black of white, dropping part of his stoic demeanour.

Soundwave took a moment to find the right words. "They are….encouraging. He is a very practical mech, that much I can say about him. He's also a good listener. I have been able to face my dreams more readily than I did last week. Talking about what happened to me does lighten my spark."

"Good. It's very good to hear. Although he has that unfortunate habit of gambling," here Prowl gave his companion a small smirk, "he's confidential and has a keen sense for finding what a mech really means in their words."

"Prime mentioned that too," murmured Soundwave, clasping his hands together and leaning back.

Arching an optic ridge, the doorwinged mech muttered, "He manages to be omnipresent, that mech does. Knows almost anything that happens here on the Ark before even I or Red Alert do."

Soundwave made a noise of amusement. It described Prime perfectly.

Prowl noticed how Soundwave had relaxed and he made an internal wince. He wished he did not have to share this news, but it was better to inform than to deal with the shock and aftermath after keeping something hidden. "Unfortunately, checking on your progress is not the only reason I called you here. We have gained some intel from some satellites and some agents still on Cybertron. Information I think it is prudent for you to see," he said, pulling a datapad from out of a neat stack and handing it to the bigger mech.

The telepath took it, a sense of foreboding creeping up on him as he began to read. His optics scanned the file, and the foreboding increased with each line he read until he saw one name that confirmed his suspicions.

Shockwave.

By the looks of the datapad, the purple guardian was now here on Earth, leaving Darkmount – and subsequently, most of Cybertron apart from his drone guards – alone. He handed the document back to Prowl and asked quietly, "What does this have to do with me?"

"I was wondering if you could tell us what to expect," replied Prowl, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, optics searching the red optic band.

Soundwave knew there was another part to that question, but spoke regardless. "His processor is a convoluted mass of logic and worship for Megatron. His loyalty was said to rival my own." He halted, giving himself a mental shake. He was no longer the loyal puppet he once was. "He does not care about happiness of his underlings. Only their efficiency. Unless a move is logical or efficient, he won't do it. He has an even more iron control than you or I do. I do not know why he has been called down from Cybertron. He has only done that once, and that was to discuss energon rationing with me and...my ex-leader."

"It is a danger to us if he has come down from Cybertron to aid Megatron. All of us," Prowl mused aloud. He grimaced as he made his vocaliser say the next words. "Which is why I am sending Jazz into the _Nemesis_ with Ravage to try to ascertain his intents here on Earth."

Soundwave's gaze snapped fully to that cool icy blue one. He realised that Prowl was not making a cruel joke, but was in fact totally and utterly serious. It felt like a cold bile was sliding down his intake at the thought of his eldest creation being back within the reaches of his abuser. Without rationalisation he snapped, "No."

"Soundwave, I know this is an incredibly hard ask of you. I do. But Ravage is the oldest and the best trained, and will know more about the ins and outs of that base more than any others. My tactical computer puts Ravage's chance of damage of 3% without Jazz, and 2.1% with Jazz. If we know why Shockwave is here, we can prevent events from happening, such as further threat to us and especially your creations," explained Prowl, voice having no inflection. All business. Rational and logical. "Jazz will ensure Ravage's safety. If they don't go, it will be Jazz and Bumblebee or Mirage, but the chances of them making a completely successful mission drops to just above 60%, and that is unacceptable for me."

"No," Soundwave intoned again.

Inside, he was hiding his fear, trying to keep from shaking. Megatron's words came back to him. '_I will find one of your creations and kill it….kill it…."_

"Soundwave. Listen to me. You know this is a war. You know that some things must be done that we don't agree with. Ravage needs to go on this mission. I'll give you some time to think about it rationally," Prowl said firmly.

The telepath felt a little frustrated. He didn't see this as fair.

"Look into my processor. See my regret that we have to use Ravage, but this is crucial," offered the black and white, letting the smallest portion of his mind open to the blue mech.

Soundwave took the opportunity, extending a tendril of his telepathy and browsing the contents offered to him. He turned over each code of the tactical outcome, analysing it for himself before looking for any evidence of deceit or lie. When he saw what the tactician had promised he would, he withdrew cautiously. Had their slow friendship been ruined because of this intrusion? He was relieved by glimpsing a half-smile on the other's faceplates.

"I will give you more time to come to grips with this decision. But it is a final one nevertheless," murmured Prowl, his tone softening. "Now…shall we put this unpleasantness behind us? I have no pressing matters for a few hours and wouldn't mind indulging in a game or two of chess. Care to indulge me?"

Taking the offer for what it was, Soundwave replied in an permitting tone, "I look forward to it."

* * *

><p>Sitting on his throne, an ornately carved cube with high grade in his hand, Megatron said to his most loyal soldier, "I hope I can rely on you, Shockwave. I relied on Soundwave and found him to be just as traitorous as those Seekers. Can I rely on you?"<p>

"Yes, my Lord Megatron. I know no other mech whom I wish to pledge allegiance to," replied the purple mech, bowing at the tyrant's pedes.

"Say it again," demanded the grey mech, chugging the rest of the high grade, optics flaring from the sudden buzz of energy through his systems.

Shockwave said it again, his singular optic fixed on his master's ones. It was illogical to leave Megatron's command. He could not fathom why the four had left. Megatron was to be the supreme ruler over Cybertron and then over the galaxy. A mech with that much power was one you did not rationally want to anger. He chanted the phrase again, shuffling closer to his Lord.

"Prove it to me Shockwave," purred Megatron, looking down at the mech bowing for him. He so loved that submissive position.

There was a mechanical whirring as part of the flat faceplate folded away, leaving a pair of thick lips in its wake, Shockwave's hidden mouth bared and moving forward.

As the lips touched a seam on the inner plane of his kneejoint, Megatron sighed. It was perfect.

He was glad he had called Shockwave down.

* * *

><p>Placing the last of the samples Perceptor had given him to look at the side of the microscope (which was not Perceptor's alt mode), Starscream leaned back and rubbed at his optics tiredly. As fulfilling and wonderful it felt to be getting back to his more scientific side, it did have the toll of staring at something for a considerable amount of time. Especially if one was cataloguing samples. It was tiring, yet interesting work.<p>

Surprisingly, once he stopped being so snarky, he found that he could tolerate both Perceptor and Wheeljack. Although the inventor could be a tad too crazy sometimes and the microscope could sometimes even confuse _him _with the science talk, they were much better company than some of the other Autobots. It made him feel comfortable. Not to mention Ratchet. The Seeker smirked as he recalled a conversation with the medic the previous day about the most creative curses to use to let someone know how fragged off you were at them.

Standing and flicking his wings in a stretch, Starscream mused that life on base wasn't so bad. He was fuelled every day, got to pursue his interests, got to fly at least once every three days. It was good.

However, it made him reflect on his years on abuse.

And Starscream didn't like to do that. The feelings of weakness and inadequacy raised in him fought against his psyche, making him want to break down. He couldn't. He would not let another bot see him cry or break down apart from the ones that already had.

"I'm going to take a quick cycle for recharge and come back to these later," Starscream informed Perceptor, who was looking at his own sample on the other side of the lab. He saw the red mech nod his helm once, and it was enough for Starscream. He wandered to his room that he shared with Skyfire, almost a size of the hangar, and flopped down on the berth. He must have been really tired, for not long after he sprawled out over the soft material did his optics shutter close and his processor cycle into recharge…

~/~

…_He couldn't see a thing. _

_He was blind._

_But aware. _

_There was a presence behind him. A dark, looming presence, like a poison. It wanted to smother him. Control him. Wanted to break him down to sub-atomic particles and jam him back together again in one misshaped and broken mess. He gasped as a finger scratched over the base of his wings. He bit his lip. Sounds this early on in the 'punishment' would only mean worse things for him._

"_Pet. That's all you are. My whore and pet. You love it."_

_Starscream shook his helm. The bastard knew he didn't like it. _

_An oily chuckle rose from the depths of that gravelly vocaliser and the hand went down to cup his aft. He stiffened, feeling that large hand simply rest on the curved plating. _

"_Later, I think. Tonight, I want to hear you scream early."_

_Something was pulled out of subspace. Something that made a whispering kind of noise as it dragged over the ground. It sounded like nine snakes over grass. A switch was flicked, and a static buzz filled the room. Recognising the sound, Starscream struggled in his bounds, but the knots were firm, unyielding. It could not prepare him for the first lash of the electro whip on his wings._

_His shrill scream split the air, along with Megatron's hearty chuckles._

_The warlord relished in his screechy screams. _

"_Want me to move on already pet?" mocked the large grey mech, hauling the whip back and bringing it cracking down on the expanse of smooth white plating again, optics glowing with lust as he saw the plating begin to crack and tiny streams of energon paint the once pristine plating. _

_Starscream opened his mouth, screaming loudly, forcing himself not to cry with the agony. His wings…his beautiful wings! Marred, sullied, now disgusting due to that touch and the pain that roared through him, ten times more powerful and more painful than an overload. His mouth was open in a continuous stream of sound was that whip came down again….and again…and again, again, again, again…._

_~/~_

"NO!" barked Starscream, bolting out of the berth and huddling, shaking, in the corner of the room. He wrapped his arms around himself and willed the tears not to fall, willed himself to calm the turmoil in his spark, feeling defiled by the memory. He wanted…he didn't know who he wanted to comfort him. If he wanted to be comforted at all.

It seemed like Primus was looking out for him as the doors to Skyfire's rooms opened, and a blur of blue and black shot to him, huddling over him protectively, a white mass hovering above them all.

"Starscream, we felt you through the trine bond," Thundercracker murmured, holding his trine leader around the waist while Skywarp chose the shoulders as his place to hug. The younger Seeker made shushing noises and rocked them all back and forth, waiting for Starscream's trembling body to calm.

Skyfire watched over them worriedly. He thought that Starscream had been doing so well in adjusting. Now it was time to go slower than before, retrace those steps and perhaps redraw boundaries if needed.

"Easy Star," cooed Thundercracker, holding his trinemates close. They had seen glimpses of the feeling through their trine bond.

"Yeah Scree, he won't ever hurt you like that again, we'll all make sure of it," assured Skywarp, resting his helm against a red shoulder.

Starscream leant into the contact, reaching one hand out to Skyfire. He was his friend too. As his hand was grasped, he gave a shaky sigh and said, "Thank you. I…I don't know what I'd have done if you all would have not shown up."

Skywarp smirked a bit at hearing Starscream's voice. The lack of a screechy rasp would take some getting used to. "It's okay. Fliers stick together, right?"

The tricoloured Seeker felt a little bit of pride come over him from the teleporter's words and he mumbled, "That's right. Just like I taught you." He squeezed Skyfire's hand in assurance, although he was a bit embarrassed by his reaction, to his slight relapse.

"We're here for you," someone whispered.

* * *

><p>"How'd he take it?" asked Jazz, settling next to his bonded in a small booth in the rec room, optics trained on where Soundwave was using Prowl's chess set to verse Mirage, who surprisingly had offered the telepath the chance of an opponent. The cassettes were watching, Ratbat actively cheering Soundwave on.<p>

"He reacted like I predicted he would," Prowl replied.

"Killed ya didn't it?" the saboteur asked knowingly.

Knowing he couldn't hide anything from the visored mech, the tactician responded with a sigh and said, "The look on his face was quite spark breaking. It's a cold, harsh reality when one fears losing their loved ones in that extent. I explained it to him rationally. I have the utmost confidence in you and Ravage to complete this mission, Jazz, but it doesn't decrease the blow that Megatron's threat is very tangible."

Discreetly, Jazz placed his hand on his mate's thigh, rubbing slow circles there. "It is. But Ah'm gonna get the information ya need. That 'n' Soundwave's info should give ya enough ammunition to help end this war, right babe?"

"Correct. Regardless, it would take a heavy toll on my spark on the part of Soundwave if something did go wrong," Prowl said quietly.

Leaning over to press a quick peck on his lover's lips, Jazz assured, "Ah know. Ah'll get us both back safely. Ah would hate to be the cause of ya guilt. It tears ya up something fierce."

Sending a pulse of love over their bond, Prowl's faceplates softened for a moment as he murmured, "I am blessed to have you in my life."

"Right back atcha sweetspark."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, I just **_**had**_** to put a bit of Jazz/Prowl in there. I love that pairing.**

**So….what did you think? Please review! I adore you all!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Okay Muse, I officially hate you. First, you don't want to work on this, and now you do? Curse you! Anyway, I'm glad you all liked the last chapter, so in this one I've had a bit more fluff. **

**And I can't believe so many of my reviews think that something bad is going to happen to Ravage…will it? Find out in this chapter 3**

**Warnings: **Implications of interfacing.

**Disclaimer: **Pfft, if I owned Tranformers, I'd have a Prowl/Jazz comic out and distributed to the rest of the world. I would make it canon.

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 17<strong>

* * *

><p>Soundwave watched as the Porsche folded down into his alt mode, Ravage hopping in and transforming into cassette form. With a heavy spark he turned away from the scene as Prowl briefed Jazz on emergency procedures and such. He couldn't bear to watch as the saboteur took his eldest creation back into the range of his tormentor, no matter how essential the mission was.<p>

He stayed, looking in the opposite direction, as he heard the rumble of an engine and the beep of a horn as Jazz peeled off and out of Ark territory. He didn't move until Prowl came up next to him, placing a hand on his arm.

"Come on inside, Soundwave. Try not to dwell on what will happen and things will be fine," assured the tactician quietly, but letting just enough concern slip into his tone to let the telepath know that he was trying to do the same.

Soundwave looked over his shoulder at the dirt cloud kicked up by the Porsche's tyres and let out a small sigh. He let his helm hang and he allowed the Praxian to lead him inside. Once in, they went to the rec-room, where Blaster and all the cassettes apart from Ravage were setting up the decorations for the party the next day. The party where Blaster had challenged Soundwave to a DJ battle, like they had done when they were young. Prowl gave him a cautious pat, knowing sometimes the blue mech would sometimes flinch with contact and left him in Blaster's capable hands.

"Hey 'Wave…want to get those streamers in the box and hang 'em over the entrance?" Blaster called from where he was setting up the two DJ booths on the stage, connecting cords to the back of the stations.

Acknowledging his friend with a nod, Soundwave went over to the supplied box and gathered the required streamers and headed to the entrance, sedately hanging them over the doors, his thoughts constantly turning to his eldest creation. For caution's sake, he had toned down the telepathic and creator/creation bond between he and Ravage. He didn't like it one bit. He was worried, dread a dark coil in his tank at the thought of his creation within the range of Megatron's evil clutches.

Soundwave sighed, tacking the streamer end to the wall, securing it.

He felt a touch on his bond from Buzzsaw and he looked over to where the yellow and black condor was hanging lights above the stage with Laserbeak. He canted his helm to the side, allowing Buzzsaw to voice his opinion.

::You are placing us on edge, creator,:: murmured the avian like mech.

::I apologise,:: replied Soundwave, putting another streamer up and trying to soothe all his creations.

::Nah, we know you're worried. We can't help but pick up on it.::

Soundwave couldn't help but feel slightly lifted by Frenzy's words. He gave them another mental pat and went back to his work.

When he was done, he felt someone behind him, and knew instinctively that it was Blaster. He turned, meeting the concerned blue gaze of his friend. "Yes?"

"You're still brooding, even though you don't realise," Blaster murmured to him, reaching a hand out to lay it on a broad blue shoulder.

Soundwave dropped his gaze. It was true. He was having to constantly push his worry to the back of his processor. "What am I to do? I will surely go mad." He said it soft, not wishing to draw the attention of his diligent cassettes – who were happily going about their decorating – and crossing his arms in front of him, feeling vulnerable.

Blaster rubbed his hand over the shoulder slowly. An idea came to him as he remembered his dream a few nights previously, remembering how happy Soundwave had been when they had gone to the waterfall, the way they had played. "Hey, want to get out for a while? We don't have duty at all today, and we can finish setting up the room later. What do you say?"

Bringing his helm back up and a tiny flash of hope appearing over his face, Soundwave asked, "The waterfall?"

"The waterfall," the other split-spark confirmed.

* * *

><p>: This is a clever contraption,: Ravage remarked through a private comm. as he perched upon Jazz's back in the middle of a clear, bubble like structure as they went down into the depths of the sea.<p>

: One of Wheeljack's most successful inventions. It also dampens our spark resonances so the Con scanner can't detect us. It's fallible, but not a too many times,: replied Jazz with a smirk. :Ya guys could slip into our base, and we would slip into yars.:

:Touche:

:Not to mention Ah'm surprised ya never figured out where we got in.:

Ravage stayed silent. He watched as Jazz manoeuvred them in the bubble structure underneath one of the side thrusters, and it was then that Ravage saw a piece of the panelling had been torn away and a door had been fitted, a tiny Autobot symbol adorning it. He made an amused sound. :To think that Megatron had an Autobot symbol all of this time. It's a mini-revenge really.:

:It always amuses me,: Jazz said, opening the bubble structure and leaping at the door, the spark lock recognising his spark signature and opening just enough to allow both bots in with the minimal amount of water flooding in. They halted, waiting to see if any being detected their presence. Ravage had to carefully control his emotions. This place in which he had lived in for years, now felt as unfriendly and as cold as a bullet between the optics. He leapt off his new commander, silent, audials straining for any indication that they were given away by their rather ungraceful entrance. He noticed with detached interest as the water drained away from the hallway in gutters he had never perceived before.

There was no noise.

And then the mechanoid panther realised why. This was the 'soundproof' level. You couldn't hear what was happening in the other levels, and the other levels couldn't hear any sounds coming from this level. It made him shudder to think that one of the rooms on this level was where his creator was so abused and threatened.

Sharpening his focus, he said to the black and white who was picking himself up, :You received my plans I trust?:

:You betcha kitty cat,: Jazz replied, grinning as he caught the glare aimed at him.

:I'm going into the vents. The sooner we get those plans, the sooner we leave. I will not keep Soundwave waiting.:

Without waiting for an answer, he slunk around a corner, nosing at a hidden panel in the wall to make a vent open. He crawled through, keeping his footfalls silent as he scrambled up it and into the ceiling of the floor. Once he went up to the next level, he would be in the general area. Only then could he really begin to gather the information he needed. Still….there was a prickly feeling all up and down his back as he moved through the vents. He couldn't tell the cause of it and it made him even more wary.

Not to mention how the glimpses of the Nemesis hallways as he traversed the ceiling made him feel a stranger to these halls. It was almost awkward to realise he considered the Ark home now.

He went up, thanking Primus no one had thought to erase the little footholds in the main vents he and his brothers had made to get up through walls when they needed a place to hide after pranking or in just wanting to avoid the world. It kept from sliding down the levels.

Now voices could be heard, and Ravage smirked in satisfaction. Fantastic. He was right near the command centre. However, his satisfaction disappeared when he heard the voices of both Megatron and Shockwave. He crept closer to the vent, slowly as to limit his noise so they wouldn't hear it, and when he finally glimpsed inside the room, he realised he never should have worried anyway.

All he could see of Shockwave was his legs and arms that were wrapped around Megatron, and that cold, cultured voice moaning the warlords name as the grey mech continued to thrust.

Barely suppressing a snarl of disgust, Ravage moved on to the next vent over the command centre. In this view, he could only hear Shockwave and Megatron, not see them. He flicked his gaze over the computer consoles, absorbing all of the information. It was all fairly standard: Who was on duty where, the energon level in storage….ouch, only 34%. They would _have_ to be going on a raid soon and would be valuable information. He filed it away in his memory bank. Seeing nothing abnormal, Ravage decided to move on. If it wasn't here on obvious screens, it means he would have to tap into the main hard drive of the Nemesis. _Everything_ from every console and hard drive on the ship was stored there.

Leaving the two mechs below him to be caught up in their…interfacing, Ravage mused on something he had thought before.

'_If Megatron had asked, had done everything with consent…Soundwave would not have refused. The bastard. He could have had it if he just asked! But no, he had to tear away my creator's walls and pull apart the solidness of his sense of self.'_

:Hey Ravage, ya good?:

:Yes. Nothing in the command centre. Your status?:

:Shockwave's quarters are managin' to both sicken me and intrigue me, but Ah'll tell ya more about it later. Get the intel, and let's get the heck out of here.:

:See you soon Jazz,: Ravage promised, popping out of the vent and flicking his tail in lazy satisfaction as he gazed at the slab of metal and circuitry that made up the central hard drive. '_Fools,' _he thought derisively. Soundwave had argued that holding all their information in one location, no matter how secure, would be potentially dangerous. Megatron had chosen to ignore that piece of advice. Now he was going to make the most of the warlords moment of arrogant idiocy.

Out of subspace he retrieved a USB like drive, able to hold a large amount of data. With a smirk, he entered in Soundwave's old overrides to the small console that could pull up any files on the hard drive, pleased when he saw the numbers had been accepted. He plugged in the USB, and let his intuition guide him. Without looking at them, Ravage downloaded all files submitted or worked on by Megatron and Shockwave, while also retrieving the folder labelled 'Plans.' He browsed around briefly for other files, picking them at leisure, before unplugging and placing the USB back into subspace.

'_And now…for my own retribution, I humbly ask to test my concoction on you,'_ the mechano panther snickered to himself, red optics gleaming as he connected a panel from his body to the console and released a virus onto it.

As silent as a leaf falling through the air, Ravage slinked back into the vents and back to his position.

He had a creator to get back home to.

* * *

><p>His creations were happy. Carefree. Each action an expression of positive emotions.<p>

Yet he could not feel any of those things. All Soundwave could think about was that Jazz would come back from the mission alone, with an apologetic expression as he said 'I'm sorry. Megatron has him.' Those words would rip him apart to the very fibre of his being. He knew that the feelings of being dirty and defiled from his rape would never _fully_ leave him, but he knew the wounds that were slowly healing would be torn and raw if the event he dreaded came to pass.

"Ya know, I'm not a telepath, but even I know you are thinking about if Megatron captures Ravage," a voice said quietly beside him.

"Yes…I am."

"He's gonna be fine, Wave."

"You don't know that," replied the blue mech, his gaze shifting from his creations to Blaster, who was sitting and looking right back at him.

"No. But I've got this feeling that everything's alright for Ravage right now. He's got Jazz, who's the best. He was trained by you. I think that should help with your worrying a little bit. Besides, you could tell he was itching to get out," Blaster said, making sure to keep his voice neutral. Any inflection could make Soundwave come to conclusions by reading in between the lines.

Soundwave shifted his gaze again, staring at the surrounds but not really taking it in.

"I still feel powerless to protect, even now," he finally murmured quietly, so quietly the boom box had to strain his audios to hear it.

With compassion in his optics and spark, Blaster laid a hand on his friends. "You're stronger than what you give yourself credit for, you know. We as a race rely on making decisions to ensure our survival. I believe that when the time comes…you'd be able to strike Megatron down in one blow and end this whole war with one bolt of your telepathy. It's only fear holding you at bay."

"Pardon me while I just schedule with Ratchet to have the emotional centre of my processor replaced so I don't feel it then," Soundwave said caustically.

Blaster winced at the tone and intertwined their fingers together, giving the telepath an anchor. With a bittersweet chuckle he said, "He would if he could. He's real fond of ya. And your guys. I caught him sneaking some energon goodies from his secret stash to Ratbat the other day."

The visored mech couldn't help but picture the scene and he replied with a hint of a smirk, "Ratbat is persistent."

"Something he gets from his creator I'm sure."

Soundwave did smile at that, and realised that Blaster, if only for a moment, had thoroughly distracted him from thinking about his eldest creation. His grip tightened on the hand threaded through his, and he sighed. His best friend was right. If it happened…then was the time to worry about it.

A loud yell pulled him out of his reverie and he looked up, spark pulsing contentedly with amusement as Laserbeak flew up high into the trees, Rumble held securely in his talons, before swooping back down and dropping the purple cassette, who whooped in glee before hitting the water with a splash. Eject and Rewind immediately pounced on him as soon as he came up for water, all three getting into a water fight. Ramhorn was sunbaking, letting his solar converters soak up the sunlight in the patch he had claimed. Steeljaw and Frenzy were swimming laps with Ratbat flying above them. Buzzsaw was at the top of the waterfall, merely watching. He never liked to get his plating wet.

"See? Focus on this, 'Wave. It's moment's like these that we remember to get us through the bad times," Blaster murmured softly.

Taking a shuddering breath to relax himself, Soundwave asked, "Should we join them?"

"Only if you want to," the red mech replied easily, smiling at him. Something funny shot up the telepath's spine at the sight of that glowing smile and he nodded, tugging his friend with him without a word as they slipped into the cool river, much to the delight of his creations and Blaster's, who swam up to them, eager in their play. Blaster immediately began to splash at the smaller mechs playfully, laughing when they splashed him back. Soundwave, however, didn't feel quite so playful and waded up the river, reaching the waterfall. Reaching a hand out, he let the water flow down onto it and through the gaps in his plating. It was quite soothing. Moving his hand out of the spray, the telepath moved his frame underneath instead, looking out at the happy scene.

The fall of water thundering down on him calmed his spirit, it seemed. Such a force of nature unhindered, merely flowing around him. The pressure acted as a tension reliever on his joints and cables, and Soundwave sighed, arching into the spray, even raising his arms above his head and letting the water stream over him.

Blaster, who looked up at that moment, a playful grin on his face, stopped stock still.

Soundwave was…gorgeous. That strong body displayed to its fullest, sun shining down on the blue plating as the mech stretched gracefully, helm tilting back, displaying those rather appetising throat cables to the boom box.

Blaster was pretty sure his jaw dropped.

Rumble nudged Frenzy beside him in the water, both sharing meaningful looks. They knew _exactly_ why the red mech was looking at their creator as if he were Primus himself.

Making a noise of satisfaction, Soundwave swung his arms down again, rolling his shoulders. That felt…surprisingly good. He glanced back up, to find his fellow split-spark gaping at him.

Frowning, he asked, "Blaster? Are you well?"

"Uhh….guh….Oh yeah, I'm really….yeah good. Just…um, thought I saw…a monarch butterfly above the waterfall while you were stretching…yeah," Blaster stammered out, faceplates heating in embarrassment, making sure his mental walls were up just in case the other mech decided to make sure he was well via telepathy. He turned back around, hastily starting the splashing game again before Soundwave could press further.

Soundwave knew something wasn't right in that answer, but he let it drop. He had a feeling Blaster wouldn't appreciate it if he probed further into the matter. He pulled himself out of the water, content to watch as his creations played. He felt like he was home. He leaned back, letting his gaze fall up to the lush green canopy above him, sensing as Buzzsaw flew from the top of the waterfall to lean against his side in comfort. Stroking along the edge of a wing, Soundwave mused that he felt true tranquillity.

Whatever events happened next, he would just have to accept he couldn't control them all.

* * *

><p>Playtime was over.<p>

Blaster had gotten a comm. from the Ark that Jazz and Ravage were on their way back to the Ark. It had reportedly been a quick and well executed mission. However, one of the mechs had been injured.

As soon as Soundwave had heard the word 'injured,' he had tensed, as stiff as a rod, and demanded they all leave the waterfall area as soon as possible. Everyone agreed, the cassettes snuggling into their allocated slots in their creators as Soundwave and Blaster ran back towards the Ark, the red mech almost struggling to keep up with the blue's rapid pace.

"Easy 'Wave! He wasn't captured!" Blaster called out to his companion slightly ahead of him.

"He's hurt." The tone was abrupt, absolute. Like the voice of a God.

"We don't even know if it's Ravage. You told me you haven't been able to establish bond contact yet!"

The answering growl made Blaster quiet his opinions. Deep down, he knew that he would be exactly the same if in the telepath's position. As the Ark came into sight, the boom box breathed a sigh of relief. Even in battle he wouldn't run so fast for so long. They dashed into the entrance, paying no heed to any bot in their way as they headed for the medbay. Sure enough, as they approached, the cursing of Ratchet was heard.

It was Soundwave's turn to feel the slightest relief. Even after almost a month on the Ark, he knew that if Ratchet was yelling, the damage wasn't that bad.

Pushing through the doors, the visored mech was fully ready to see his creation, a gash in his side or in some way dismembered…only to stop in shock when he saw that it was _Jazz_ the medic was yelling at.

Ravage was laying on another berth, looking inordinately pleased with himself. Not a scratch was on him as he turned his feline helm to his creator and re-established their bonds again.

'_I'm home, creator,'_ whispered Ravage telepathically.

Waves after waves of relief flooded Soundwave, and a great weight seemed to lit off his shoulders as he lurched forward and enveloped his eldest in his arms, checking the feline over for any damage, glad to have his creation in his arms again, safe. He hugged Ravage to him in an uncharacteristic display of raw emotion, his visor bright as he imprinted the feel of the feline in his hold into his memory banks.

Jazz grinned at the scene, saying out loud, "Rav' was a real hero. Got into some trouble with Vortex as we were tryin' to get out of there, and Ravage came in at the nick of time. Kid's got talent."

"Hush you," growled Ratchet, focussed on welding the mark where Vortex had shot a plasma round. "They'll find out from Ravage later. I need to fix you up before Prowl gets here, and you'll know he's going to blow a gasket at the fact you got attacked because you were _whistling_ of all things."

"Hey! The song was addictive mech!"

A clang echoed throughout the room, prompting a chuckle from Blaster as the medic whacked the saboteur on the back of the helm, quieting the black and white's protests.

"Information: gained?" asked Soundwave carefully.

"Yes," Ravage said aloud, and there was no denying the smugness in his tone. "Fools. They didn't delete our codes. I could have murdered them all and they wouldn't have even known it."

There was a silence in the medbay as they realised they had forgotten how dangerous Ravage could be.

Soundwave knew his creation could do it, and do it readily. But that life was not theirs to live anymore, and he transmitted as much. "You made the more noble decision, Ravage. Their time for penance will come."

"So…Doc, are Soundwave and I allowed to go? Something tells me our little guys are going to dissolve in one big cuddle pile," Blaster asked, attempting to liven the mood, which had plummeted.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Ratchet muttered, mentioning his hand at the medbay doors, optics never leaving Jazz's wound.

"We must deliver my information to Optimus Prime or Prowl immediately," Ravage said quietly to his creator as they all headed out. Soundwave nodded, and seemed to have an internal debate before he ducked his helm and gave the feline a soft kiss on his forehead. Ravage knew his creator had been worried and allowed him to hold him tight, care flowing through their bonds. Blaster beside them was helpfully quiet, a support if needed.

They dropped off the USB to the Prime's office and headed back into their quarters. Once there, the cassettes were let out, all, even Blaster's, leaping onto Ravage, laughing and regaling him with tales of the river while Ravage relayed his time sneaking around his old base. Soundwave was smiling, glad, when suddenly he felt tears prick at the corner of his optics and his mood plunged once more. He couldn't ruin his creation's joy, and so he grabbed a startled Blaster, striding to his room and pulling them both in before shutting the door, breathing heavily.

Blaster's voice came through as if through a fog. "Wave? What's wrong? I thought it'd be a good thing that Ravage is back, unharmed."

"I….I d-don't know. I just…I feel the sudden urge to weep," Soundwave replied in a whisper, back towards his friend as he tried to focus on something…anything.

A hand rested on his shoulder to turn him around.

Ah, that was his anchor.

Those honest aqua optics were concerned and searching on his. "Maybe…I don't know, you just need the release? Cryin' is a way to do that ya know. And…well, maybe you just want to purge the worry. And the whole 'feeling weak and dirty' bit."

Slumping forward, the dark blue mech muttered, "Perhaps. Only…I just…I…Blaster."

"Yes?"

"Hold me."

"Always."

They sunk to the floor, arms wrapped around each other as tears made their way out of Soundwave's optics behind his visor, and down his face in silent sobs, clinging to his friend who had been so devoted to him, so giving and just _there._ The arms wrapped around him gave him stability. As his tears finally subsided, he pressed his face into a broad red shoulder to calm himself.

"Better?" Blaster asked softly, stroking over his friends helm and backstrut, letting his speakers hum in a low, soothing frequency.

"Much," confirmed his companion. "You were right. It needed…it needed to get out."

"I'm glad, my main machine," replied the boom box. His tone then turned slightly teasing and he said, "But this won't make me go easy on you in our DJ-off tomorrow night."

Soundwave managed a chuckle and said, "I expect not. Let the best mech win, remember?"

"Of course."

* * *

><p>Skywarp flounced happily behind the twins as they snuck down a corridor. "Ooh, I can't wait! If this is hazing, I don't mind getting hazed like this!"<p>

"Well, we thought that we'd give you a challenge. Rumour has it you were just as bad as we are when you were on the Nemesis," Sideswipe said, his grin set in manic glee.

"And then some. Helps when you have a warping generator. But I have a question. Are you both sure that Grimlock won't kill me on sight?" asked the Seeker.

Sunstreaker scoffed. "Remember, you have a warp generator? Besides, he's always too busy roaring at his other Dinobots and at everyone else rather trying to actually _find_ who did it. Last time we painted him pink he roared so much that Ratchet had to throw three wrenches at him just to shut him up and calm him down. So worth it though."

Looking at their bare hands, Skywarp frowned. "But…we don't have any paint."

"We're not using paint. We've got better ammo for this time," chuckled Sideswipe.

"Like?" wheedled the black flier.

"Silly string, whipped cream, bows, fairy lights, a Santa hat and a pair of bunny ears. And that's just for Grimlock's head," cackled Sunstreaker, rubbing his hands together.

Skywarp joined in the laughter. This was going to be _sweet!_

* * *

><p>AN:** Reviews please! I love them all so very much, and I love the detailed ones! **

**So what did you think of that? I tried to have more fluff and more SW/Blaster in there.**

**I promise that next chapter is the party and the DJ-off. But I have a question for my reviewers. How do you think Soundwave should find out that Blaster is in love with him? Does Blaster drunkenly tell him or sing him a song at the party that clues him in? Or is it telepathic? Or something/someone else entirely! I'd really like to know so I can see where the fic will go, and how much more angsty-ness to put in. **


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your suggestions! So this is it. This is the chapter. How will Soundwave react? Only time will tell. And again, my apologies for the delays. I can't wait until the end of November, it means I'll be able to update more often instead of every Monday (or whenever I physically can).**

**Songs are not mine.**

**Transformers are not mine.**

**Warnings: A seemingly suicidal Skywarp.**

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 18<strong>

* * *

><p>Cracking open his optics, Grimlock felt funny. Not in a good way. Like there was something wrong. His head felt…unbalanced. Blinking, shifting slightly, he saw Swoop leaning against a wall in their volcano quarters, a hand raised to his mouth.<p>

"Why you Swoop have hand to mouth?" the lead Dinobot asked, craning his T-Rex head up.

"Him Grimlock look funny. Him Grimlock got ears on head, pretty lights, and white stuff on body. Look very ridiculous," the flying Dinobot giggled, and gestured to the giant mirror they had hung on a rock wall for occasions they needed to check their frames. Rising from his laying position, Grimlock lumbered over to the mirror and stood in front of it.

"That bot not Grimlock!" he exclaimed.

"It is!" replied Swoop gleefully.

The robotic T-Rex could only stare at his reflection in horror and anger.

A Santa hat had been glued to his snout in between his nostrils, a pair of fluffy ears plastered onto his helm, garishly pink. Whipped cream had been 'drawn' in a line down between his optics, and also decorated his body. His tiny front legs had the tips of his claws painted red. Under his jaw many little red bows had been stuck, and fairy lights looped around the bunny ears and then wound their way down his neck. Silly string was _everywhere. _Not to mention the hundreds of fairy stickers plastered ubiquitously on his on the tip of his tail were several long white pieces of twine which made light sounds as he shifted.

He had been pranked.

Again.

Snarling, Grimlock threw back his great head and roared to the ceiling.

"THEM TWINS BETTER RUN! THEY REGRET PRANKING ME GRIMLOCK!" the Dinobot bellowed, and stomped out of his quarters.

He wanted to crush the puny pranksters!

* * *

><p>Skywarp, sitting in the rec room, turned to his fellow pranksters and said, "And that, my friends, is a sign of a prank well done."<p>

Sideswipe grinned. "And old Grimmy-poo won't be able to pin it on us because we were on comm. duty at the time!"

Sunstreaker and Skywarp snickered. "And it's gonna be hard to get me, because I'm not on camera! I just teleported. I'm glad that camera in the Dinobot's den is still out, or else it would have been incriminating for sure."

Another furious roar, closer this time, echoed through the Ark.

"Oooh, he's pissed," chuckled Sunstreaker darkly. He couldn't wait to see what the Dinobot looked like.

"Good thing that Prime's here. He's the only one that can really calm Grimlock," Sideswipe said, and leaned back in his chair, optics gleaming with mischief. Skywarp joined him, calmly sipping his ration. They waited in apprehensive glee as the thuds of large T-Rex feet stomped closer and closer to the rec-room. By now, most mechs were glancing worriedly at the doors, wondering what was to happen. Even Optimus looked ready, tensed to combat a possible threat.

The doors finally burst forward to emit a furious Grimlock, who roared loudly at the sight of the twins.

"Me Grimlock SMASH!" he snarled, and started forward.

"Oh this is too sweet," snickered Skywarp, joined by the twins as the Dinobot charged forward. They were too confident, and it showed, and Grimlock saw it and slowed.

"Him Sideswipe and him Sunstreaker did this," accused Grimlock.

Sideswipe giggled, "Nope, sorry Grim, wasn't us. We were on duty. But whoever got ya? Got you good."

"Him Sideswipe liar."

"Actually Grimlock," the calm voice of Optimus Prime broke in, and he moved in to restrain the T-Rex with a hand on his silly string covered shoulder, "Red Alert just confirmed their alibi. The twins _were _on comm. duty until about an hour ago, and they've been here since. I advise you to calm down."

"Me Grimlock want to smash!" Grimlock repeated, snarling and shrugging the hand on his shoulder off. "Me Grimlock look silly. Me Grimlock no like look silly. Me Leader!"

Making sure his amusement didn't show, Optimus said, "Yes, you are the leader of the Dinobots. Now…get Swoop to help clean all of this off of you, you don't want to look any more silly, right?"

Grumbling and growling, the Dinobot nodded his helm and skulked off to his quarters unhappily. He wanted to know who did this to him, but that would just have to wait.

Meanwhile in the rec-room, the Twins and Skywarp gave each other covert high-fives as the rest of the mechs that had viewed the spectacle began to chuckle and laugh. Even Optimus had an amused gleam in his optics as he turned and went back to his seat to talk to Ironhide. Things eventually settled down, but the memory of a thoroughly pranked Grimlock would never be forgotten.

* * *

><p><em>That night<em>

* * *

><p>Leaning on the doorjamb to his friend's room, Blaster grinned and complimented, "Nice shine. Rumble and Frenzy help you out with that?"<p>

"They did," replied Soundwave, putting his journal datapad down on his berth and switching it off. Looking back to Blaster, he smiled. "It's time?"

"For me to kick your butt? Hell yeah!" the boom box replied enthusiastically, bouncing on his heels like an excited sparkling. The enthusiasm filled the room and Soundwave couldn't help but absorb it and he smiled wider, standing up and canting his helm to the side in question. "Shall we?"

Beaming, the red mech yelled, "Let's go and party!"

Answering cheers erupted from their cassettes as they left the large quarters and made their way to the rec-room. They were almost there when they felt the floor vibrate beneath them from the sub-woofers and the level of the music. Soundwave let the thuds reverberate through his being and he felt his cassettes do the same. Music truly affected them all in such wondrous ways.

Blaster opened the doors, grinning as the music assaulted them immediately. This was his element. His and Soundwave's. Taking a blue hand, he led them through the crowded dance floor and to the two DJ stations, which Jazz had been looking after. "Jazz, my mech! Nice tunes!"

"Pretty sweet huh?" Jazz asked, winking his visor at them before disappearing into the dancing bodies on the dancefloor.

Soundwave, meanwhile, had tensed. "Autobots: overcharged already?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah. When there's a really big party like this, everybot wants to cut loose and whatever. That's why I brought you down here later, so you wouldn't be fully caught up in the influenced mechs," replied Blaster, shrugging. If a mech could have any vice, then letting go every now and then was it.

Soundwave remained wary, determined to keep a mental tab on his creations, but settled, picking out his track for the evening. He and Blaster had agreed that they would do opposite songs

His own choice would be one of his favourite songs that he had listened to time and time again in the Nemesis with that radio. Not because of what the song meant, but for the sound of the voice and of the beat and edgy style of music. 'Wake up Call' had something about it. Looking around, he chose the music as he and Blaster waited for the current song to wind down. They had planned it like this. Show up and abruptly start. It had been their style and was familiar to them both.

As the current song wound down, Blaster smirked and placed his own track on to play. This was going to be _good._

"Mechs! Get ready to see who's gonna get your circuits in a spin!" he called out, attracting all the attention. He grinned as the first bars of his song began to play. The more partying mechs like the Twins, Jazz, Bumblebee, and so many others whooped excitedly. This song was too popular for them not to be excited.

"I should have known you would have chosen your favourite artist," Soundwave mentioned to him.

"Hello pot, I'm kettle," replied the red and yellow mech with a smirk.

The DJ turntables weren't like any in human existence. They didn't have the typical space for the vinyls. No, the music was played through a different medium. The turntables instead had a small miniature disc to represent the music track, with a multitude of buttons and sliders all around it. Blaster let his fingers run fondly over these while the first verse began to play.

_Check that out, what they playin'  
>That's my song that's my song<br>Where my drinks  
>I've been waiting much too long much too long<br>And this girl on my lap passing out, she's a blonde  
>The last thing on my mind is going home<em>

_From the window to the wall_  
><em>This club is jumping, til tomorrow<em>  
><em>Is it daylight or is it night time?<em>  
><em>1 o'clock 2 o'clock 3 o'clock 4<em>  
><em>We gon' tear the club up.<em>

Blaster smirk was kept firmly on his face as he pressed two buttons in synch, letting the last note extend longer seamlessly, adding in a higher note to it.

"Tentative, Blaster?"

Soundwave couldn't help but goad his friend. It was amusing to watch Blaster's optics flick a light glare to him before the chorus played.

_Ayo me say day oh  
>Daylight come and we don't wanna go home, go home, go home,<br>Yeah so we losing control (control)  
>Turn the lights low cause we about to get blown….b-b-b-b-blown, b-b-b-b-blown!<em>

Soundwave hid his smirk as Blaster added in the extra sound effects one by one. Mechs below were dancing happily to the music, while others watched from the tables. 

_Let the club shut down, down-d-down_  
><em>We won't go oh oh oh, o-o-o-o-o-o-h!<em>  
><em>Burn it down<em>  
><em>To the flo oh oh oh<em>  
><em>Ayo me say day oh, whoa-ah-oooh!<em>  
><em>Daylight come and we don't wanna go home.<em>

Blaster mixed it, creating more sound affects as the song played, getting into the groove of thing easily. From fading the music in and out at strategic points, to amplifying it, to making the words repeat and making that vinyl scratch sound, he was in his element…and the Autobot crowd loved him for it.

The red mech found himself singing along to the music, lights flashing brightly over the turntable, spinning around on the spot before he hit the synth wave slider again, making the frequency of the song change.

_Ayo me say day oh  
>Daylight come and we don't wanna go home, go home, go home,<br>Yeah so we losing control (control)  
>Turn the lights low cause we about to get blown….b-b-b-b-blown, b-b-b-b-blown!<em>

_Let the club shut down, down-d-down  
>We won't go oh oh oh, o-o-o-o-o-o-h!<br>Burn it down  
>To the flo oh oh oh<br>Ayo me say day oh, whoa-ah-oooh!  
>Daylight come and we don't wanna go home.<em>

A cheer rose from the group of partying Autobots and Blaster bowed graciously, grinning. Stepping aside, he motioned at the turntable. Let's see if he could beat that!

Soundwave's expression remained the same, although Blaster thought he saw challenge gleaming in that visor, the same challenge that had always been there whenever they had versed each other on the battlefield.

Soundwave let calm overcome him. He couldn't afford not to. He didn't look at the crowd, but let his song play, the opening synthesized sound immediately soothing to his audials.

_Didn't hear what you were sayin'_

_I live on raw emotion baby_

_I answer questions, never 'maybe's'_

_And I'm not kind if you betray me_

_So who the hell are you to say we_

_Never would have made it babe_

"Hah! I knew you'd pick Maroon 5!" crowed Blaster, leaning back and waiting for Soundwave to begin.

_If you needed love, well then ask for love,_

_Could have given love, now I'm takin' love,_

_And it's not my fault, cos you both deserve what is coming now, _

_So don't say a word_.

The gunshot drum sound was Soundwave cue, and a techno weave was his first weapon of choice, speeding up the tempo of the song, making it more danceable. It seemed like the crowd agreed as they began to move again. The twins especially were taking over the dancefloor in their usual way, moving in synch with each other in hard, fast movements.

Soundwave immediately lost himself in the song. He couldn't hear anything apart from each individual beat, the timbre of Adam Levine's voice, the way he changed it in a smooth flow from original to remix.

_Wake up call-all-all  
>Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed (my bed)<br>Don't you care about me anymore?  
>Don't you c-c-care about me? I don't think soo-o-o-o-o.<br>Six foot tall (Six foot tall)  
>Came without a warning so I had to shoot him dead-ead-yeah<br>He won't come around here anymore  
>Come around here? I don't think so.<em>

Blaster watched in admiration as the blue mech before him relaxed, becoming _one_ with the music, with the way he DJ-ed. The lyrics of the song didn't quite fit, but that didn't matter. The fact that Soundwave was doing what he truly did best and what he enjoyed warmed the red mech's spark. It had taken a month to get him comfortable again. Not fully, but comfortable _enough_, and that was as much as he could hope for. Optics dimming and smiling, he couldn't help but continue to stare over the strong planes of the telepath's body. So handsome.

The song came to its last chorus too soon, and the words were mixed one last time.

_Wake up call-all-all  
>Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed (my bed)<br>Don't you care about me anymore?  
>Don't you c-c-care about me? I don't think soo-o-o-o-o.<br>Six foot tall (Six foot tall)  
>Came without a warning so I had to shoot him dead-ead-yeah<br>He won't come around here anymore  
>Come around here? I don't think so.<em>

Another cheer went up from the crowd upon completion of the song, but perhaps not as enthusiastic as the one for Blaster.

Nevertheless, Soundwave felt the utmost satisfaction in his performance.

He turned to find his friend grinning at him.

"Nice work, main machine," Blaster said, clapping. "Did it feel good?"

Yes," replied Soundwave. He tilted his helm slightly to the side as Jazz leapt onto the stage once more and yelled, "Give it up for the two DJ mechs! So, who's the best? Who's the cool cat with the style to go the mile?"

Out of the crowd came the undoubted winner.

"Blaster!"

"Blaster's the bomb, bro!"

"The Blast-man!"

Blaster's smile faded slightly. Technically, Soundwave's had been so much better than his own. So much smoother, more hip, more edgy. He had thought that the Autobots had begun to accept Soundwave more freely. Guess this favouritism towards him told him otherwise. Reluctantly, he stepped forward and made a half-hearted wave to his comrades. He didn't want it. He wanted Soundwave to be recognised for being the better DJ.

"Now, cos ya won, ya get to sing a luurve song," Jazz drawled. "But after another hip-hop."

Steeping off the stage, knowing that Soundwave was following, Blaster plopped into a vacant booth.

"Congratulations," came the soft voice of the telepath, sitting across from him.

"It should have been you," pouted Blaster.

The crimson gaze was carefully blank as Soundwave answered, "I don't think I would enjoy the prize. Winning or losing doesn't matter to me in the end, no matter how competitive you and I are."

Raising his optic ridges, the boom box asked, "Ya sure?"

"Definitely. I will enjoy watching you perform," Soundwave said quietly. Ratbat appeared then with two cubes of mid-grade, and the telepath reached forward to sample it, to savour the fuel. It was nice to be at full efficiency all the time. He looked back to his friend, who still looked put out. He reached out and tapped his hand, saying, "Please, don't worry. I know that our skills are equal."

"Whatever," replied Blaster a little flatly. He really didn't want to accept being the better DJ.

Jazz walked up to them, this little sly smirk on his face. "Hey Blast-man, what song are ya singing?"

"Whatever rhymes with 'slag the idiots who don't know talent,'" Blaster answered.

He saboteur frowned. "Hey, they liked yours better. So what? Ah'm sure Soundwave's gonna cream ya at another party."

Soundwave almost sighed with gratitude. Trust Jazz to find a way to stop Blaster from letting his charming modesty overcome him. He added, "More time, perhaps, is needed before they will more actively call out my name. I have only been here a month."

"And look how far ya've come!" chirped Jazz, clapping them both on the shoulder. "Blaster's been great, and Prowl and Ah can see it."

The telepath seemed to blush, but it was hard to tell with the tight rein he had on his emotions. Shrugging and tugging on the boom box's arm, Jazz pulled him over to the music station, leaving Soundwave alone to observe. He hadn't been given time earlier, when Blaster had so unceremoniously dragged him in here. Now, he had the chance.

Optimus was sitting with Prowl and Red Alert, the latter who had finally began to accept them around the base and seeing them on his cameras. They looked to be chatting amiably about something. It looked like they were making full use of their down time. Glancing around, Soundwave saw the large bulk of Skyfire in the corner, a certain tricoloured Seeker sitting opposite him as they talked and drank their energon. They looked subdued, and the telepath could guess what they were talking about, and it wasn't science. Thundercracker and Skywarp were dancing together. Skywarp was smiling and his lover looking content.

They had become good…well, not friends. That line between friend and acquaintance.

Other bots were in their usual cliques. Either dancing or sitting and drinking energon. Over the noise of the dance music, Soundwave was sure that he heard a drunk Huffer singing some sort of old Cybertronian space ship shanty.

Frenzy and Rumble came into his view, hopping into Blaster's vacated seat.

"Enjoyin' yourself Boss?" asked Rumble, grinning.

"Hell of a party isn't it?" Frenzy chimed in, raising a small cube of high grade in salute.

"Caution: not too much high-grade," Soundwave intoned sternly. He didn't like the risks of his creations being overcharged.

"Feh, we ain't worried. We got you Dad," Rumble said confidently.

Soundwave sent a pulse of gratitude to them both. It affirmed that he wasn't worthless when his creations reminded him that they loved him and trusted him to be their protector. He sipped his energon thankfully, and sat back and listened as the twins regaled him with tales of their awesome dancing skills and praise for his DJ style. He vaguely noted Blaster debating with Jazz up on the stage, no doubt about the song choice.

Then, for no reason, Frenzy suddenly giggled.

The telepath frowned and asked, "What do you find so humorous?"

"Oh, nothin'," replied the red and black cassette, but failed at nonchalance.

Soundwave felt suspicious, but let the matter drop for now. Besides, it looked like Blaster was about to sing his reward song.

Again, the saboteur stepped forward with his usual charming grin and announced to the crowd, "We've decided to do one for all the lovers out there. Step up and slow dance to the delightful tone of our Blast-man."

Jazz leapt off the stage and fetched his own bondmate as the music began to play a gentle pop song. He dragged Prowl onto the floor just as Blaster made himself comfortable in front of the microphone, clearing his intakes to sing.

_I'll be your dream  
>I'll be your wish <em>

_I'll be your fantasy…  
>I'll be your hope <em>

_I'll be your love  
>Be everything that you need…<br>I'll love you more with every breath  
>Truly, madly, deeply do<em>

Prowl had given into Jazz and was now swaying along to Blaster's pure voice along with a few other couples, such as Hound and Mirage, and Skywarp and Thundercracker. Ratchet was sitting, serenely watching the dancing couples when two pairs of hands snatched him up and dragged him onto the floor, despite his protests. The sight of the medic being pounced upon by the red and yellow twins made Soundwave smirk. He turned his attention back to his friend, so sweetly crooning the lyrics. The boom box's voice was very pleasing.

_I will be strong I will be faithful  
>'cause I'm counting on<br>A new beginning  
>A reason for living<br>A deeper meaning, yeah_

Rumble and Frenzy saw Blaster dart his optics to Soundwave, saw that same loving glance and promptly burst into semi-drunk giggles.

"Query: source of amusement?" the blue mech asked dryly. Why were his creations laughing?

_I want to stand with you on a mountain  
>I want to bathe with you in the sea<br>I want to lay like this forever  
>Until the sky falls down on me<em>

"Hehe, n-nothin' Dad. Just a little inside joke between me and 'Zee," Rumble replied, his visor shining with mirth.

Soundwave felt his frown deepen. Rumble was lying. He was never a good liar, it was Frenzy who was better at that. He was curious. Why did his creations find Blaster singing a song so funny? Perhaps it wasn't at Blaster, but at the song choice. While he did admit the song was soft and sweet, he didn't mind the change of pace compared to the amount of dance music they had listened to before. "Desist. You are ruining my enjoyment of the performance."

_And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky,  
>I'll make a wish, send it to heaven<br>Then make you want to cry the tears of joy for all the pleasure and the certainty,  
>That we're surrounded by the comfort and protection of<br>The highest powers  
>In lonely hours<br>The tears devour you_

The cassette twins couldn't take it anymore and burst out into more fits of giggles, aware of their disgruntled creator. Frenzy, in the slightly inebriated state that he was, couldn't stop the secret slipping out even if he wanted to. "Keep lookin' at Blaster, but make sure ya head's not turned towards him, or ya'll miss it. Just watch 'is face, and ya'll see why we're laughin'!"

Confused, Soundwave did as instructed by his cassettes as Blaster sang the second chorus.

_I want to stand with you on a mountain  
>I want to bathe with you in the sea<br>I want to lay like this forever  
>Until the sky falls down on me<em>

Soundwave felt that his creations were imagining whatever his friend was doing, and just as he was going to turn his optics to them to berate them, he caught it.

The almost imperceptible change in expression for naught but a few moments as Blaster looked in his direction. Blaster's optics became softer, expression more tender, and Soundwave knew in that second that Blaster was not singing that song to everyone, but _to _him, _for_ him.

The implications of this made Soundwave tense, freeze in place. His processor whirled as he tried to find some sort of explanation, other than what his rational processors were telling him.

_Oh can you see it baby?  
>You don't have to close your eyes<br>'Cause it's standing right before you  
>All that you need will surely come…<em>

_I'll be your dream, __I'll be your wish  
>I'll be your fantasy…<br>I'll be your hope _

_I'll be your love  
>Be everything that you need…<br>I'll love you more with every breath  
>Truly, madly, deeply do…<em>

There was no way for him to be certain.

'_Yes there is,'_ his processor murmured to him, and then Soundwave found himself in another battle. Should he use his telepathy? It would be such a large violation of their friendship if he did, but some part of him was aching to know. He needed to know. Why? He didn't know why, but now he suspected, he couldn't let the suspicion go without confirming it. It was almost tearing him apart.

Deciding to take the chance, the telepath schooled his features and let out a tendril of mental thought, searching for the singing mech's own consciousness. He found it, slowly wrapping around it, and then slipped inside while the red and yellow mech was singing his spark out.

_I want to stand with you on a mountain  
>I want to bathe with you in the sea<br>I want to lay like this forever  
>Until the sky falls down on me<em>

_I want to stand with you on a mountain  
>I want to bathe with you in the sea<br>I want to lay like this forever  
>Until the sky falls down on me<em>

The song concluded, the dancing mechs clapping in appreciation, Ratchet stomping away from the unrepentantly grinning twins who were proud they had managed to bag a dance with the notoriously grumpy mech. Blaster grinned proudly out at them all, bowing slightly.

Soundwave was in shock.

From what he had just seen in Blaster's mind.

Blaster had thought of him the entire time he had been singing, and of nothing but him. Soundwave re-organised his processor, and slowly went through the information and the sensations he had just experienced. Blaster felt many things for him, that much was certain.

There was the want to protect. He had seen images of his friend comforting him, of wrapping him securely in his arms and crooning softly to him. The easy camaraderie and the way they talked to each other, so knowing, so full of comfort.

Then, what had made him slightly uncomfortable, was seeing what Blaster saw in his sweetest recharge. Of them together in every way possible, kissing, touching, making love on Blaster's wide, plush berth. He recalled that Blaster had seen him as desirable, beautiful, strong, with shiny blue plating and handsome features.

Did he truly look like that to Blaster's optics? How could the red mech not see him as flawed after what he had suffered under Megatron's hands? Although he told himself that he wasn't dirty, he still felt inadequate compared to what he used to be.

The images of what he had seen wouldn't leave his mind. Of Blaster laying him on the berth, being gentle, reassuring him with honey-coated words as they touched. Another mental image of himself taking charge over the red mech, of pinning him against the wall and…

The thought made him blush.

Not only that, but he had found love.

Blaster, without a doubt, loved him. It was all there, written in his mental thoughts. There was no infatuation or simple lust. There was true love. Blaster, he saw, wanted to love him with all that he was, but held back everything for him so that he wouldn't be re-traumatised.

Soundwave didn't know what to think about that. About how Blaster loved him.

The fact that his friend had been wanting him for such a long time…well, it was almost unfathomable how much hope the other split-spark had for them to be together.

"Well?" Rumble asked expectantly, breaking his creator's chain of thought.

"I…I need some time alone," Soundwave said softly, still reeling from the _depth_ of emotion Blaster had for him. It made him feel…well, that's what he wanted to find out. He went to move out of the booth, but knocked his helm into something solid with a resounding clang. Raising a hand to rub at his forehelm, he realised he had bumped into Blaster. He looked into those glimmering blue orbs, and finally recognised that expression that had been present from the day he had first come to the Autobot base.

Blaster's optics were shining with _love_ for him.

"Hey, where's the fire?" the red mech asked as Soundwave flinched away as if struck, standing abruptly and awkwardly.

Self-conscious and needing the space to come to grips with this reality, Soundwave muttered, "I need some air. I'll be back soon."

Before his friend could respond, he dashed out of the rec-room with as much dignity as he could muster, moving through the halls and finally escaping to the outside of the Ark. He gave a brief wave to Smokescreen, who was on guard shift and continued to a small hill, sitting down and taking many deep intakes to centre himself. He felt like his perception of the world around him had turned upside-down.

Would this change anything? It was the most pertinent question for him. It meant he had to re-evalutate his own feelings for Blaster.

Soundwave leaned back, shuddering as he recalled how much Blaster had wanted him. So many emotions…so many thoughts of how the other cassette bearing mech wanted their relationship to end up like.

"If one thing is certain, at least I know I am cared for," Soundwave said aloud.

It was a starting point. He felt taut, ready to act, but with now where to channel it in any constructive manner. Not only that, but his uncertainty was climbing by the second as more questions entered his processor. Do I let him know that I know how he feels about me? Or do I let it go until he approaches me personally? Will or should I act differently? What about my cassettes? Will they see this love from him as a threat as we live in the same quarters? Sighing as the multitude of questions span in circles, Soundwave placed his helm in his hands.

How did he feel? Until now, he was certain of their strong friendship growing steadily by the day, that they looked out for one another and Blaster looked after him, even after his struggles with his defilement at the hands of his vile ex-leader. He cared for Blaster. Loved him like a friend.

But as a lover?

Soundwave forced himself to breathe deeply, to search within himself to see if he could ever have it in him.

He did.

He wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew that if this tiny speck of unknown feeling grew, that he would be able to open up to Blaster in the way a lover could. He thought his friend handsome, and admired him, and it was certainly a starting point he could act on.

It made him slightly frightened, to know that he could feel such an emotion.

Was he worthy?

Soundwave immediately tramped down on that thought. He thought of Prowl, his friend, who encouraged him to stay away from such negative thoughts. He repeated his mantra over and over again: "I am not to blame for what was done to me. It was his fault, not mine, his choice, not mine. He cannot hurt me anymore because I want to experience life and continue with it to the best of my ability."

He finally halted, calmed by repeating his mantra.

Still…

Blaster was in love with him.

He cleared his intakes and admitted to himself, "How he feels is out of my control. Blaster loves me…he loves me…"

He rolled over onto his side, playing with a few pieces of sparse desert grass in his digits. He felt all tangled up within himself still, but let it go. He thought he would simply take the Blaster approach.

Wing it.

The telepath stood and was about to leave when suddenly he became hyper aware of something behind him. He quickly scanned with his sensors, and froze when he realised that a bot as big as himself was standing there. Whirling around, Soundwave took a quick intake of breath when he saw who was not even fifteen feet apart from him, helm tilted and looking quite amused.

"Well Soundwave, it is not many who can surprise you. And…oh my, no mask either? Tut tut, living with the Autobots has degraded you."

Soundwave felt anger bubbling in his circuits as he glared at the mech. That accented voice grated on his audios, but made him aware of his slight fear. That word….'degraded'…did the mech know?

"But then again, I always found you to be too quiet. More vocal loyalty, perhaps, would have spared you this fate. I am here to collect you to take you back to our illustrious lord."

"Never," Soundwave growled, letting a threatening rumble echo out of his loudspeakers.

Shockwave tilted his helm to the other side, single golden optics illuminating the area. If he had a face, Soundwave would have called it sinister. "Well then. I will just have to take you by force."

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><p><strong>AN: Oooh, cliffhanger, XD. (Some of the line spacing is weird at the song bit, I have NO IDEA why DX)**

**Yes, I know I've left you dangling, but I hope this chapter makes up for the long absence of work on this. I've had so much real life shizz, it ain't funny. **

**I'd love your reviews on what you liked! The prank, the party, the songs, the end bit, anything!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hey you guys! Thank you for all of the: alerts, favourites and reviews you all have given me. It means a lot to me and encourages me to keep going. I hope you enjoy what I have in store for you all today! I can't believe I'm almost up to 300 reviews too. *Squees* Thank you all so much.**

**Warnings: Battle violence and light swearing.**

**Disclaimer: No, transformers are not mine. **

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 19<strong>

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><p>"Something's not right with Soundwave."<p>

Starscream broke off from his conversation with Skyfire and Wheeljack, looking down at the feline cassette near his pedes. "Meaning?" he asked imperiously.

Ravage flicked his tail in annoyance. "Something tells me he's heading into danger. You're the fastest mech on base. If I feel anything negative, are you willing to find my creator?" the eldest cassette asked calmly, his red optics boring into Starscream's own.

"Why me and not Blaster?" asked the jet.

Ravage tilted his helm and continued to stare.

Shrugging the Seeker replied, "Fine. Alert me."

* * *

><p>"You are not going to take me back to the Nemesis. I will not be treated like that again," Soundwave said lowly, moving to the side as Shockwave began to circle him, tapping his laser cannon arm against his thigh. He couldn't run, and if he did he wouldn't get far. Fighting was his only choice.<p>

He didn't like it one bit, not even the satisfaction of showing the purple mech who was superior could hold any value for him.

Shockwave made a sound that sounded like a mirthless, considering hum. "Treated like what, Soundwave? You abandoned our leader when all he wanted was for you to service him in the way that he wanted. Was that so hard? No…you had to betray our Lord, and he wants to back by his side to conquer the universe," Shockwave said, and it was in such a way one might of thought he was reading out a datapad on energon figures.

The telepath found himself bristling with anger. "You are saying then, that I have no choice if my leader wishes to use me in such a way?"

"Yes. We give him our all, as is our pledge. Now…be a good little telepath and come back to the Nemesis with me," the mono-opticed mech said, beckoning with his fingers.

Growling, Soundwave found himself uttering words he'd thought he'd never say before in a battle.

"Over my dead body."

Desperation and fear drove only part of his actions as he lurched forward, sonic cannon on his shoulder humming. Much of it was anger. Anger at Shockwave for being so _subservient_, at Megatron, for taking advantage of his loyalty and expecting him to come back to the Decepticons. Anger anger _anger!_ He aimed his sonic cannon towards Shockwave's cannon arm, knowing that it wouldn't hit. It was a distraction for him to swing his left fist towards the purple helm. Shockwave, not expecting such a dramatic deviation from Soundwave's traditional fighting style, was caught off guard, dodging the cannon blast but failing to duck the punch. His processor rang with the force, and he thrust his own fist up, hitting a shoulder.

"I have underestimated you Soundwave," hissed Shockwave, ducking and jabbing his cannon arm into a side seam, making his opponent hiss in pain.

Twisting out of the purple mech's grip, Soundwave snarled back, "Like I underestimated your capacity for depravity." He then elbowed the other mech in his side, before charging up his sonic cannon again and blasting Shockwave's cannon arm.

The purple mech halted for a moment, staring at his cannon hand, damaged from the sub harmonics emitted from the telepaths sonic cannon, disrupting the circuits. His yellow gaze seemed to narrow into a deadly beam on intent. Without another word, Shockwave barrelled into Soundwave, knocking him to the ground with all his strength. He struggled to pin the others arms, getting hit multiple times in the chest plate by flailing fists, before grabbing the blue mechs hands and pinning them to his sides. Soundwave continued to struggle, making little grunts and growls every now and then in his ire.

If Shockwave could smirk, he would. He loomed over the visored mech and whispered lowly, "I can see why Megatron found you so appealing under him like this. Such a perfect, dirty little whore, aren't you?"

Soundwave stilled, ice flowing through his energon lines.

He was trapped by the larger body, their pelvic spans dangerously close to each other.

No….no…_nonononononono!_ This was not going to happen to him again!

Out of nowhere, the faces of his cassettes, Blaster, and Prowl flashed in front of his optics. It gave him a grain of determination and he tried to buck the purple mech off, but failed. Shockwave leaned over him completely, and whispered, "Maybe…I shall have a taste of what my leader has. After this, no one, not even your pathetic cassettes will touch you again."

Soundwave threw his helm back with an almighty roar as he used every bit of strength in him to throw Shockwave off him. The single opticed mech gasped as he landed a few feet away, rolling in the dirt.

Standing tall, the telepath looked down at his opponent, visor blazing with fury and his frame tensed in anger. He was too furious to let the part of his processor crying out that he was untouchable, weak for letting Shockwave knock him over, take over.

Shockwave made an odd sound that could have been an approving chuckle. "Now this fight is something worthy," he said, getting to his own feet, making as if to charge, but pulling a small blade out of subspace and throwing it as Soundwave. In the dark, the flash of the sliver of metal was hard to see. The blue mech was too slow in sidestepping, the blade embedding itself deep into his shoulder below his cannon, cutting the neural lines to it.

Twisting his lips in disgust at the purple mech, the telepath murmured darkly, "This ends now."

"Oh really?"

The question was a mock, a scoff, a taunt to Soundwave's fury.

"Yes."

Gathering up his mental power, Soundwave growled as he released a bolt of pure anger at the other mech's processor, shattering the usually firm mental walls. Realising this, Shockwave tried to re-fortify his walls, but another mental blast of white hot fury halted him. He fell as Soundwave stepped closer to him, continuing on with his mental attack, of walls of mental energy completely slamming into his processor, blinding him to everything but agony.

For the first time in a long time, Shockwave found himself fearful of another mech.

For the first time in a long time, Shockwave found himself yelling as a thousand energon blades felt like they were ripping him apart.

For the first time in a long time…Shockwave wished himself to be back on his lonely abode on Cybertron.

He tried to crawl, to escape the barrage, but he was paralysed. With a groan, he collapsed completely, twitching in the dirt. Slowly, he felt the mental invader remove itself from his thoughts, and he could intake air again. Shockwave lay there, dimly registering the sound of jet engines.

Soundwave looked down at the twitching purple mech.

He hadn't released a telepathic onslaught like that in quite some time. Not since back on Cybertron, in the thick of the war…intaking deeply, Soundwave brought his hands up, realising that they were shaking. Shuttering his optics, the blue mech gathered his clashing thoughts, enabling him to hear the sounds of a jet engine rumbling nearer. A mech transformed, and the now less-screechy voice of Starscream remarked, "It looks like you didn't need me after all."

Turning and opening his optics again, Soundwave murmured a tad shakily, "Perhaps…the battle actions and emotions are unfamiliar after so much time…who alerted you?"

Shrugging, the Seeker replied, "Ravage. Thought I'd come to where he told me to just in case. Optimus, Ratchet, and Blaster are on their way." Ruby optics surveyed the downed form of Shockwave with a sneer. "I must congratulate you. I've wanted to see that glitch of a glitch fall for a long time." He then turned his attention back to the telepath, and he frowned. Something wasn't right about Soundwave. He stepped forward and carefully asked, "Soundwave? Do you…require assistance? There is energon on your plating on your side and your shoulder."

In a daze, trying to come to grips with everything: with Blasters undying love for him, being attacked, attacking telepathically, feeling that hot wash of shame rise again – Soundwave looked down, gingerly brushing his fingers over the wound where the cannon had been jerked into. "I will wait until Ratchet arrives," he said, looking back to the tricoloured mech who was looking uncertainly at him.

He opened his mouth to ask Starscream how long it would take for the others to get there, not noticing the twitching mech behind him silently stagger upright, his healed laser cannon charging with a quiet hum.

Starscream's optics widened as Shockwave brought his arm up, and instinctively he pushed Soundwave to the side and behind him, flicking his wings high, arching back…

…before throwing his helm forward in the direction of his enemy and letting out an audial splitting scream, high pitched, his vocaliser weapon engaging.

Soundwave groaned in agony from the pitch, but was safe behind the Seeker as the frequency of the scream noise increased.

The same could not be said for Shockwave, who was knocked back from the force of the scream. His panic flared immediately. He knew what this was. He had been the one to supply the suppression virus for Starscream's vocaliser to Megatron. He yelled as Starscream, looking fiendish under the light of the moon, pushed his vocaliser further, higher, more powerful.

One moment, Shockwave was conscious.

The next, the weapon reached its zenith and shorted out his audials, shattering them, before destroying the small wires in his processor that allowed him to process and be sentient.

When Starscream closed his mouth, taking a deep intake, the body of Shockwave slumped on the ground, helm crackling with electricity and yellow optics fritzing out.

The tricoloured Seeker panted from the effort of maintaining his scream for that high, and for that long. "You will never…never touch anyone again," he rasped, dropping to his knees, a hard sense of victory claiming all his being. He had rendered the once-Con guardian of Cybertron effectively processor dead, only functioning with a spark, unable to think or behave normally for the rest of his existence.

Which, if he got his way, would be short.

He turned, his optics meeting with Soundwave's visor.

The telepath had his hands over his audials, but due to his position behind Starscream – where the audio waves would not be anywhere near as strong or effective – he was unharmed from his vocaliser weapon. The Seeker shuffled over, feeling the insane desire to laugh at the shocked expression on the blue mech's face. The situation reminded him of that night Soundwave had rescued them and encouraged them to leave the Nemesis. He whispered, "You saved my life. Now I'm just returning the favour."

Soundwave parted his lips to speak, only to be interrupted by the sound of an ambulance whoop nearby.

The telepath looked back to the flier to express his gratitude, but a knowing and understanding look shared between the two resolved any need to verbally talk.

Within seconds the familiar alt mode of Optimus Prime came into view, followed closely by Ratchet's. As they slid to a stop in their haste, the ambulance's back doors flung themselves open and Blaster leaped out, transforming from his boom box alt mode as he did so.

Blaster was alarmed and he moved to where Starscream and Soundwave were kneeling in silence, not far from the still form of Shockwave. More sounds of transformation were heard as Optimus and Ratchet stood upright. The medic saw the telepath's wounds and immediately went to his side, keeping himself in full view of the blue mech as he grumbled and got his mini-welder out of subspace.

"What happened?" asked Optimus firmly, warily going over to the comatose mech and nudging the frame with the tip of a pede.

Starscream glanced at Soundwave, but the blue mech looked blank behind his visor. He said, "I don't know what happened before I got here, but when I did, Soundwave had Shockwave unconscious. I was talking and…well…"

Here the Seeker hesitated, wondering if his vocaliser would be changed back to what it used to be if he revealed what he had done.

"Go on," encouraged the semi, optics unjudging above the facemask.

Sighing, Starscream went on, "Shockwave got up again, about to attack with his cannon, when I shoved Soundwave out of the way and screamed." At the Prime's confused look, the jet elaborated. "Ratchet may not have told you, but my vocaliser was under a virus. It suppressed my normal speaking tone, and the weapon inbuilt there. According to Ratchet, if I scream loud and high enough, I will be able to shatter audials and render a mech's processor defunct. A feat that I have seemingly achieved tonight."

Starscream's tone quietened as he continued to speak, until his voice was no higher than a whisper.

The group stood in silence for a moment, before Optimus nodded in resignation. "It was self defence. I cannot blame you for that, Starscream. It was a noble thing to do, to remove Soundwave from harm's way. However…" As the Seeker felt a sense of dread creep up on him, the Autobot leader surprised him with a lighter, teasing tone. "If you feel the need to scream at an unfortunate mini-bot or twin, please try to restrain yourself."

The Seeker smirked, but turned his attention back to Soundwave. He, as well as the rest of them, had noticed that the telepath was being far too still and quiet.

"Wave?" Blaster asked tentatively.

He was still confused as to why his friend was out here in the first place. One minute, Soundwave had been in his booth, listening to him singing, and the next, he was gone.

He had no idea why.

After all, Soundwave still had no clue of the depths of his feelings, so he thought that singing that song would have been all right. It was a way of declaring how he felt with no one knowing.

Blaster frowned as Soundwave looked up at him, still blank, still silent, before turning to Ratchet and letting the medic tend to him.

"Oh frag it, dirt is getting in my joints. Prime, I'm going to bring Soundwave back to base, while you all do something about that purple monster," groused Ratchet, standing and transforming, holding open his back doors in invitation. An invitation that Soundwave readily took, thankful of the escape from the chaos inside his mind. The medic was a calming presence to him, for all his brashness. As he transformed, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was unworthy once more.

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><p>Optimus Prime stood over the body of Shockwave.<p>

He marvelled at how the mech still existed, and if it were not for his spark, he'd be completely deactivated. He nudged it again with his pede, and turned to Starscream, Blaster, and the newly arrived Prowl to ask, "What shall we do? I commed Ratchet as he left earlier, and he expresses no desire to fix his processor as it would be a severe drain to our resources."

"Rip his spark out," Starscream threw out bitterly.

"That is not our way," the Matrix-bearer reminded gently. He could understand the Seeker's bitterness, but he must uphold the principles he himself stood by and endorsed.

"He is no longer sentient. If we send him back to the Nemesis, even if Megatron forced them to starve until he was fixed, the Constructicons wouldn't be able to get him sentient again. So…rip his spark out. Or you can let me do it, I have no qualms," repeated Starscream crossing his arms over his cockpit, tone tinged with that same weary bitterness and hate he used to carry around before his turnaround.

"It'd make the 'Bots wary of ya again," pointed out Blaster. He itched to know what had happened between Soundwave and the mech before them before Starscream had arrived. What could have happened to revert Soundwave to silent?

"I don't care," spat Starscream.

"Ease," commanded Prowl. His tactical computer had run the scenario and he found the most viable solution. "Starscream does have a point, sir. Shockwave is no longer fully sentient and he can no longer be fully sentient without a processor to channel his sparks consciousness. We cannot fix him, but perhaps we can place him under imprisonment."

Optimus inquired, "He'd still need energon for his frame under imprisonment in the brig, wouldn't he?"

Prowl shook his helm slightly. "I'm not talking about that type of imprisonment. Rather, we place his spark into stasis lock. After that, he no longer inhabits his frame, and we can smelt it down for parts that we can utilise while keeping him efficiently contained. In effect, we will be upholding our morality code by enabling him to survive, even though it will be in containment. That way he is kept away from society and justice is done, and it is not a drain on our much needed resources."

The larger mech pondered this for a moment, before turning to the Seeker and asking, "Is this agreeable to you?"

Starscream huffed. "The self-satisfaction factor is down but…yes."

Optimus nodded and commed Skyfire.

The shuttle may not like it, but they needed to cart the body back to base.

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><p>Ratchet bustled around his medbay, getting the right tools set up as he fully tended to the injuries on Soundwave's frame. There weren't many, but the cannon wound in his side was still leaking energon, even with his quick patch job, and the blade stuck in the shoulder wiring looked nasty. As he tended to the damage, he said, "You're too quiet."<p>

"I know," replied Soundwave.

The telepath was still staring blankly and in no particular direction, and it worried the medic. He paused, cradling the younger mechs chin and asked gently, "What happened out there?"

Soundwave couldn't help but be drawn to those compassionate blue optics. The first few words were hard to get around, but as soon as they got out, the rest of the words flowed. He talked about how he had been out there, thinking, when Shockwave had startled him and their subsequent fight. His tone became strained as he described how the other mech had pinned him, tortured him with words.

He paused as he came to the part of his telepathic attack, before forging ahead, describing slamming his rage against Shockwave's processor, making him feel pain until he gave in.

"Nothing seems to settle down for you, does it?" asked Ratchet, sarcasm tinging his tone as he caressed Soundwave's helm as he continued to work.

Soundwave let out a small sigh in agreement.

Ratchet hummed in thought, a detail noticed that hadn't been given enough elaboration. "But why on Earth were you out there, _alone_, in the first place? It's not like you. I'm tempted to hit you over the head with a wrench, but it wouldn't get the message across," he asked.

The telepath shifted uncomfortably, the issue of Blaster, of his _friend_, being so in love with him he would do anything for him. It made him so uncomfortable he was tempted to erase his own databanks and live by the saying 'Ignorance is bliss.' When Ratchet poked him lightly in the side, insisting, he murmured, "If only you promise not to talk about it with any other but me."

The medic frowned, but nodded, reaching over to wipe his hands on a rag, finished with repairs.

"Tonight, at the party…I managed to discover Blasters depth of feelings for me," Soundwave said quietly.

Ratchet stared, before shaking his helm. "Oh boy. I hoped this wouldn't happen."

"Meaning?" inquired the blue mech innocently.

There was a small smirk playing about the porcelain face as Ratchet replied, "Almost all of the other mechs don't know, but I'm a medic. Not only do I specialise in the art of healing, but I can read bots. I know Blaster's been pining for you for a long time, even worse since we've been here on Earth. He's managed to hide it pretty well since you've been here, because you've been hurting and he knows that. But yeah. Blaster's been madly in love with you."

"…that's why I was out there. I was trying to...see what I felt about it."

"How _did_ you find out?"

"Rumble and Frenzy alerted me to his looks towards me while he was singing," replied the telepath, feeling a weight lifting of his shoulders just from _talking_ about it. He was still uncertain – and by Primus did he hate that emotion – but at least he had a confidante. A few, if he talked to Prowl about it. "I was curious and looked telepathically inside of his processor. What I found there…"

"It was powerful wasn't it?" asked Ratchet with a knowing expression. Truthfully, he was surprised that Blaster hadn't slipped earlier.

"Yes. He cares," murmured Soundwave thoughtfully.

Shrugging, the smaller mech said, "Well, you know now. You can't change it, and you seem to have accepted it as a fact. If you want my advice? Pretend you don't know. If it all comes out now, especially with your mental stress with your telepathic attacks, it could damage your friendship."

The blue mech stayed silent, thinking hard. For a telepath, he found his thoughts to be uncontrollable. Ratchet sensed this, gave him some energon, and left him be for the moment.

Alone, Soundwave's thoughts turned in another direction. He couldn't suppress the shudder that made its way over his frame at the thought of Shockwave straddling him, taunting him. Sipping his energon, he took deep vents to centre himself. 'Dirty.' Shockwave had called him a whore and that word.

It had been a month. Surely the after affects of his abuse would have toned down. But upon hearing those words again, said in such a context, he felt himself reverting. Was he still good enough to be the protector for his cassettes? Would he still appeal to Blaster? Although he may not return the feelings in such a way, the fact that he was found to be desirable was an uplifting, if awkward, moment.

"Hey."

He turned his helm towards the medbay doors, seeing Blaster leaning against the frame.

"Hello."

Blaster smiled gently at him, and he could see the love in those blue optics. It made Soundwave feel slightly bashful at knowing his mere presence had that affect on the red and yellow mech. He fiddled with his energon cube, remind himself to act normal, like nothing changed, as his friend made his way over to him.

"You okay?" asked the boom box, reaching out a hand to clasp a broad blue shoulder.

Soundwave tensed, and Blaster frowned. "What did that glitch do to you?" Blaster asked, tone hard.

The telepath merely canted his helm to the side, and his fellow split-spark understood immediately. "He tried to….didn't he?"

"Yes," answered the blue mech.

Blaster growled, wishing he could punch something, but refrained. "He's a glitch. But you fought him, 'Wave. Ya got him real good. It's good to see you so strong again."

Strong? He was strong? Well…he and Starscream did manage to take down one of the most dangerous Decepticons in history.

So why couldn't he feel victory as the Seeker undoubtedly had?

When Soundwave kept silent, the red and yellow mech felt even more concern. What was Soundwave hiding within his processor? What was he not letting him see? Pushing it out of his mind, he stretched and said, "C'mon. Let's go home and rest, it's been a long day." He held out his hand in invitation.

Soundwave stared at the hand, then slowly eased his own into it.

Act normal.

It was a challenge he wanted to achieve.

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><p><strong>AN:….well…..I hope you liked that fight scene. I'm really nervous about posting it. But I can't think of any other way of writing it. So I hope you all found it tense and entertaining. **

**Please review! ;D love ya!**

**Yes, Soundwave's mind is in a flux again. Let's just see where this goes, hmm?**

**Up next:….well, it's a surprise. **


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Again, thank you to all who reviewed (there were so many!), and to those who alerted me or favourited. I am honoured you like this story so much. Under the request of CodeRed73, there is a scene in here with Optimus and Soundwave. I think we'll crack 300 reviews! *glomps all viewers***

**Warnings: Very very light implied interfacing and violence. But very light. **

**Disclaimer: No, Transformers is not mine. **

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 20<strong>

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><p><span>The Journal of Soundwave – 0947 hours on the 42<span>nd day of being an Autobot

_What is love?_

_A question that had plagued me for the past few days. Ever since my discovery that Blaster loves me. _

_Not to mention my fight with Shockwave. His spark is now in stasis lock. I believe Ratchet mentioned melting down his frame for spare parts. Fitting. Especially after what he did to me, threatening me like he did. Shame on him in the pit for being a mech as cold and as cruel as Megatron. _

_It triggered yet another nightmare for me last night. _

_Only this time instead of my cassettes that was held in captivity, it was Blaster in chains. _

_I don't need to detail what happened next. The flux is too clear in my processors. _

…

_I've been avoiding Blaster ever since. I don't mean to. I want to act 'normal' around him, but what is normal? My circumstances, and truthfully, no one's circumstances in general ever since this war began, are not what one would deem 'normal.' My period of normality ended the day that I exited my apartment and turned my back on Blaster._

_Which brings me back to my original question. What is love? I love my cassettes because they are my creations and there is a creator/creation relationship. I have never felt a romantic love for another before. Lust, yes, coupled with curiosity about Seeker frames that gave me an interesting experience with Acid Storm on cold night on Cybertron. But…love?_

_And for Blaster to love me…_

_I feel safe around him. Secure. Because he understands me, knows me like no other. I enjoy being in his company. I know he is handsome. _

…_.Love? No idea. _

"Hey! There ya are. I was wondering where you got to!"

Blaster's cheerful voice interrupted his writing, and he hurriedly shut the datapad down, sitting upright. He was on top of the Ark, leaning against the rock of the defunct volcano and watching the world go by. At least, he was.

"I was enjoying the fresh air," replied Soundwave, standing. "Is there a problem?"

"Huh? No. Prime was just asking if you wouldn't mind seeing him is all," answered the red mech, his grin dimming a little in his confusion at his friends stiffer tone.

Nodding, the telepath followed the other split-spark on their way down in silence. He just wasn't in a talkative mood. Not only that, he feared he would unconsciously blurt out something about his flux. It had been rather…confronting to see Blaster in the position he had been. It had been terrified and had served to make him feel helpless, and when he woke up he had felt a phantom pain in his interfacing equipment because of it.

It had been the first night he had not gone to Blaster to help ease his burdened spark.

Reaching the rec-room, Blaster gave him a worried look before leaving. Soundwave watched him go, feeling slightly guilty. It wasn't Blaster's fault. No one could really help who they fell in love with.

Striding in and looking around, the blue mech spotted Prime at a private officers table. In front of him was a game Soundwave so loved to play.

Chess.

He had regularly played against Prowl, and therefore knew that opponent very well. Optimus Prime was new, a spanner in the works to his usual tactics. Moving forward, he saw as the larger mech noticed him and turned his kind, warm optics on him. Sitting, the telepath greeted, "Good afternoon, sir."

"Afternoon, but I think formalities can be dropped for this Soundwave," replied Optimus, pushing a small cube of energon toward the ex-Con.

Taking it, Soundwave asked, "Reason for meeting?"

"To talk," Optimus stated plainly. "I have spent less time learning about you than the Seekers, and I would like to remedy that. I would also like to speak of the unfortunate event that occurred a few days previous if that is agreeable to you."

"Yes."

"Hmm." As the larger mech hummed, he slid his fingers over a white pawn, starting the game.

Soundwave relaxed. This, he knew. The pieces, made larger and more sturdy than any human pieces, were familiar under his fingertips as he, too, chose a pawn and moved it forward two spaces. He was appreciative of the fact that the Autobot leader perceived him well enough to know that a confronting situation could be soothed by doing a familiar action. In this case, chess.

"I overheard Blaster talking to Jazz. He is worried about you, and has been ever since your fight with Shockwave," stated the red and blue mech calmly, broaching the first subject.

As Optimus moved another pawn forward two spaces, Soundwave asked softly, "This is confidential?"

"When I usually talk to a mech one on one, always," replied the Prime.

Nodding and moving his left knight, the telepath replied, "I wished to have some time alone to think."

"You seem to be doing a lot of your thinking on top of the Ark."

Ah, so Red Alert did have cameras covering the roof of the Ark. "The nature is…peaceful. It is not as cloying as the hustle and bustle of this room at its peak time. It is a space that is mine for that moment."

"Hmm, too true," agreed Optimus, extending a bishop onto the board. "But I sense there is more to this, if you would indulge me."

Hesitating, pondering his next move as well as wondering how much he should reveal, Soundwave quietly said, "It is always a confronting event to know that your best friend is in love with you."

"Ah," hummed Optimus knowingly, and he made a noise to prompt the other mech to look at him instead of at the chess board. His optics seemed to be smiling as he said, "I suspected as much. Only something drastic would have changed how you communicate with him." As the blue mech moved his knight again, he moved an outside pawn so he could make way for his rook on the next turn. "I'm sure none would blame you. You have gone through much, and you are coming out stronger on the other side, which is admirable. It only stands to reason you would think heavily about the implications of the revelation."

It was Soundwave's turn to hum in thought as he moved his queen. "Do you have any words of advice? A thought that perhaps could ease my troubled mind other than the common 'do what feels natural'?"

Moving and taking his opponent's knight with his bishop, the Prime smiled again and murmured, "It is sound advice. However….hmm…maybe it's to do what is _unnatural_ that might help you in this situation."

Looking up sharply, Soundwave was very tempted to skim the thoughts of his new leader, so very tempted, but it would break the fine trust they had. Tilting his helm to the side in question, he took the bishop with his queen. Optimus chuckled, "Should have seen that. What I mean is perhaps instead of staying silent until Blaster makes a move, perhaps you should first write a list of pros and cons if you were so inclined to a relationship with him. If the cons outweigh the pros, then you know if the time comes to gently dissuade his attention. If the other way…well." He left off, leaving the thought in the telepaths mind.

As the red and blue mech moved his rook, Soundwave asked, "How will I know?"

"I didn't with Elita. Love is so complex, and yet it binds us together. Look at Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper. So hostile toward each other. And yet they look out for each other in battle, because deep down, there is a care. There is a different type of love each for our comrades, our friends, and our true loves. I can't advise you too well in this matter. It took my sparkmate locking us in a closet to admit we had such a depth of feelings for each other," chuckled Optimus genially.

Soundwave actually chuckled as well, admitting, "That sounds like the femme commander."

Reaching over and placing a hand on the blue mechs shoulder, Optimus said, "You'll know. It's that moment you know you'll go through anything to be with that one."

Venting calmly, the telepath said, "Thank you Optimus."

"Not at all," replied the larger mech. "I'm glad I can talk with you easily. There was another reason why I wanted to talk to you today." The tone shifted easily into business like one as the leader talked. "Although you did quite well against Shockwave solitary, and then with Starscream, I'd still like to see you go through more training. I know you have had little contact with Ironhide ever since your arrival, but he is willing to re-train you all in hand to hand combat."

"Why?" asked Soundwave, frowning. He thought his skills were fairly superior.

"If we want to stop this war once and for all, we need to be at our most supreme. We have dallied for too long. Megatron needs to be deposed," rumbled Optimus quietly.

The optics under the red visor widened. This was training for a war renewed, for a final push. He understood it all now. Nodding in affirmation, he said, "I agree to this."

Optimus said nothing, dropping his professional demeanour to enjoy the game they were playing.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, little did both Optimus and Soundwave know they had been watched by a tableful of minibots in the opposite corner.<p>

"He's just there! Bold as brass! I bet he's using mind control over our Prime," said Huffer in an angered whisper.

Bumblebee, sitting with Windcharger and Beachcomber, rolled his optics in exasperation. "I thought we've already been over this. Soundwave and the Seekers have been abused and they came here for our help. Why would they act now?"

"Because they've gotten what they wanted," growled Gears.

"But…" it was Cliffjumper who spoke, his voice low, thoughtful. "Starscream and Soundwave did defeat Shockwave. If anything, they should be in the league with him, but they're not. I don't know. Maybe we should let 'em be."

All the minibots turned to look at the red minibot in shock. Gears sputtered, "He's got you under his mind control too!"

Cliffjumper growled, leaning toward his fellow minibot threateningly. "He's not. Don't you dare say I'm not in my right mind. He's not controlling me. I'm just suggesting we leave them alone, and stop judging. I'm sick of hating sometimes. And you know what? If Prime's talking to him and he's unconcerned, I'm not going to bother being concerned either. I got worse fraggers to worry about." And with that, he haughtily grabbed a cube of energon and left the table.

"Wow…" murmured Beachcomber.

"I know. It's amazing huh," the yellow bot beside him said in wonderment. Cliffjumper was starting to turn around!

* * *

><p>"…and they lived happily ever after."<p>

"Remind me again why you decided to read a childrens book to me?"

"Because I thought it would be entertaining. I really like fairytales, even the human ones."

Turning his crimson gaze on the larger mech, Starscream arched an optic ridge and said, "They give stupid hope. Life never happens so well and structured like a fairytale does."

Skyfire sighed. "I just really wanted to get you out and about. You can't be locked up in your lab forever Starscream."

"I am out and about. I talk to you and my trine. I even went to that party a few nights ago!" protested the tricoloured Seeker, sinking further into the couch huffily.

The shuttle leaned forward in his own seat, taking a smaller hand in his own. "You know what I mean. You have been so scarce around base that other mechs haven't noticed your voice is a lot smoother and less screechy. You only go out on flights with me or with your trine. I know that the Aerials wouldn't be adverse to learning from you."

Growling, Starscream stood, tugging his hand away and walking to the wall, his wings flicking in agitation.

"Starscream?" Skyfire asked concernedly.

"Stop," demanded Starscream.

The larger mech stood, although he prevented himself from saying anything. He waited for the smaller flier to speak, respectful of the distance between them.

Starscream turned back around. "I can't deal with you being so wonderful and caring right now, you know that? Not when I'm wallowing in this pit of _me_, all the dysfunctionalism that I am, and you're here being so self sacrificing and so Primus damned nice and not being changed one bit from when we were younger. So…stop." His voice cracked a bit towards the end, but held steady, stubborn as he was.

"Why should you go through that alone?" questioned Skyfire, tone harder than normal.

"Because I need to figure myself out," replied Starscream in a determined tone. "It felt good to use my voice as a weapon, to put another threat out of the way. But it's brought a few things back up."

"Talk to me," pleaded the larger mech softly. "You're not alone."

The tricoloured mech looked unflinchingly into the sky blue optics, seeing the emotions displayed so plainly. Softening his tone, he said, "I know. But…I need to do this." He stepped even closer, and he could practically feel the body heat radiating off the white mech. He relished in it, stealing it greedily for his own. "I know you care for me…deeply, Skyfire."

"You're my friend, Star," the shuttle said softly, offering that he was here that he would do his best to understand.

"But is that all you want?" Starscream smirked, not feeling it. Knowing it was a front against what he knew he had to face...

"Star?"

"I know your secret, Skyfire," the tricoloured jet said softly, his servo resting on Skyfire's plating, above his sparkchamber.

Skyfire stiffened, and his faceplates heated. "How could you tell?" he asked, embarrassed.

Starscream smirked truthfully this time. "You were very glaringly obvious."

"Frag," swore Skyfire, prompting the smaller flier to chuckle, "Oh don't worry. I already did my freaking out about that. I'm still here aren't I?"

Nevertheless, the shuttle sat back down, half turning his face away from the Seeker who was still smirking in amusement at his friends embarrassment. He followed until he was, again, in the range of that warm body heat. Skyfire, being the large mech he was, used a lot of energy, causing him to have more excess when he wasn't using it, therefore ensuring his body was nice and warm. In a careful gesture, he turned the great helm back so they were optic to optic. "Don't be embarrassed. I've lived with two love struck Seekers for a long time. I know what the signs are…even though I've never heard either Skywarp or Thundercracker express their love in a poem."

If anything, Skyfire got even more embarrassed, faceplates so heated they were stained a light pink.

It made Starscream snicker once more.

"I can't believe you heard that," muttered the larger mech.

"I was awake at the time. It was…nice. Sweet," replied Starscream, frowning as he used the word 'sweet.' It had been one of the few times he hadn't meant the word as a taunt.

Rubbing the back of his neck, the shuttle murmured in apology, "I shouldn't have…I'm sorry."

"Hey," said the Seeker, frown dissolving into a neutral expression. "I didn't say no, did I?"

Skyfire's optics widened as he processed that statement, and he leaned forward in jubilation, only for the other mech to step back and continue. "I am, however, saying not now. Perhaps not for a while. When I feel better. More certain. More worthy."

"I think you're-"

Placing a hand over the larger mech's mouth, Starscream smirked in a melancholy sort of way and reminded, "Me, Skyfire. I have to feel like I'm not going to burst out into fits of either tears or rage at any given moment."

Removing the hand from his mouth and holding it, Skyfire nodded. "Okay. But…if something could sustain me until then?"

Starscream couldn't help but laugh at the hopeful tone of voice employed by the shuttle. Ooh but Skyfire could be so charming. Leaning forward, before he could lose his sudden nerve, the Seeker swooped in and placed a light kiss on Skyfire's cheek before pulling back and laughing once more at the bewildered look on the kind face, Starscream said, "I thought you'd like that."

Skyfire was still stunned and silent when Starscream left to go talk with his trine.

* * *

><p>"You WHAT!"<p>

"And here I'd thought you'd be somewhat happy that I'm actually semi-moving past years of abuse, but hey, if you want to act like I just-"

Before his twine leader could finish his sentence, Skywarp leaped on him, hugging him tightly. "I was in shock! This is awesome!"

"Oh please, I just admitted that I know he loves me and I _might_ be inclined to like him in that way and it _might_ go somewhere in the future," grunted out Starscream, trapped beneath the exuberance of the black and purple Seeker.

"I don't care, I'm happy for you," said Skywarp, making a happy purring noise.

Thundercracker rolled his optics, although he smiled for Starscream. "It's good to see we're being 'normal.' Starting to settle down a bit. When we go back to Cybertron…think of living in Vos again," he said, tone wistful.

"Saps," teased Starscream.

"Aw, you like it," replied the teleporter, finally finished with his glomping of his trine leader and sitting up. "It's good to see you. Hey! I got a great idea! Why don't we go train with the aerials sometime this week? It'll be a blast!"

The tricolour mech looked at him oddly. "You know, others have been saying that."

"Then that means," murmured Thundercracker, "that we should."

* * *

><p>Sitting at the comm. station, Blaster was worried.<p>

Soundwave had barely said more than a few sentences to him in the past couple of days. True, he let the blue mech be and didn't question it before.

He questioned it today.

Not only was Soundwave in the Ark, he was talking to Optimus over a game of chess. Usually, this wouldn't be seen as odd. But he knew that last night Soundwave had gone through another nightmare flux, had heard him scream through the walls. What worried him was that Soundwave didn't come to him to talk it over. They _always_ did that. It was an unspoken agreement. And truth be told, he didn't care he got woken up, because it was for his best friend and love.

So what could have changed it?

Sighing, knowing that he wouldn't receive an answer today, Blaster went back to his comm. duty.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Soooo…..how did that scene with Star/Skyfire go down with you guys? How did the WHOLE chapter do? I'd like to know, and reviews are the best way to do that ;D**

**Thank you for your support!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **Thank you again to all of my reviewers. And favourites and alerts too. I hope you've all been enjoying the journey so far. I realise this is late. I have had many things going on in my life recently, which is why this is not the usual weekly update. Not only that, but I also needed time to think about where I wanted to take this, take the characters.

**Warnings:** Psycho Megatron, slash, kissing.

**Disclaimer:** No, transformers is in no way mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 21<strong>

* * *

><p>"What?"<p>

The low voice was a dangerous whisper, but it echoed throughout the command centre, devoid of all others apart from the two mecha there.

Octane suppressed the urge to flinch. "It's confirmed my Lord. Shockwave has been defeated and taken by the Autobots back to their base."

Megatron's optics burned brightly in his face as he asked sharply, "Impossible. How?"

Shifting from side to side, very tempted to cower to appease his leader's ire, Octane said, "Shockwave did as you asked. He waited until one of the deserters came out of the base. It was Soundwave. They talked for a few moments, and then Soundwave initiated battle. They fought. Shockwave pinned Soundwave but he…he went wild. I'm not sure, but I think he used telepathy. He brought Shockwave to the ground and stood there until Starscream arrived. Shockwave moved, and Starscream let out…uh…well…he screamed, my lord. It felled Shockwave. He didn't even twitch. It was like he was-"

"Processor dead," Megatron finished off, tone still scarily quiet.

"Er…yes sir," finished Octane nervously.

Megatron did not move, did not speak, for a full minute, his optics fixed on his underling. Then he barked, "Get out of my sight."

As the triple changer left, the grey mech was still as he felt his rage build, and build, and build. At his pinnacle, he let loose with a mighty roar.

"I'LL HAVE YOUR HELMS MELTED ON A PIKE!" he bellowed to the not present forms of Soundwave and Starscream. He continued to yell unintelligibly, all the while mourning for the loss of his one _truly loyal_ officer. Shockwave who had adored him, had seen his vision and followed – to dominate, to rule.

He fired his cannon randomly at the walls, destroying a bulkhead, a computer console, part of his throne…

"You'll pay, you'll pay, you'll pay," Megatron ranted, becoming a dark chant as destruction bubbled in his energon lines. After all he had done, after all of his conquest, he would _not_ be brought down by some weaklings! He was the mighty Lord Megatron! He wanted to be paid his dues. He had worked too hard for too long to lose, to let the Decepticon cause die. Snarling, finding his cannon insufficient in sating his need and rage, Megatron whirled around the room like a storm, kicking and punching at the walls.

Finally, when his rage abated, a solid thought formed. '_I must retrieve Shockwave at all costs.'_

* * *

><p>Soundwave grunted as he hit the training floor mat for the third time in a row.<p>

Introductory training with Ironhide was proving to be an experience in toughing it out and patience, not to mention a lesson in ignoring the other Autobots around. Some snickered each time he fell, others were neutral. His cassettes, at least, were providing him with silent support from the sidelines.

"A'right, ya know whatcha did wrong that time?" the red warrior asked, crossing his arms in expectation.

"Explanation: reaction time too slow," intoned Soundwave through his mask, engaged for the sparring.

Nodding, Ironhide expanded on his words. "Not only that, but ya're tryin' to rely on my style, 'stead of goin' with the flow and lettin' instinct guide ya. Ya're bein' too rigid. Rigid is good sometimes, but ya gotta adjust to ya opponent. Ya ain't doin' that. Now, up 'n' try again."

Well, at least the old warrior was fair.

Getting up, Soundwave once more dropped into the ready position, concentrating on loosening his joints. He conjured up the thought of the waterfall, imagining the flow of water over the rocks, the freeness of the movement that liquid had. When Ironhide's look turned to one of approval, he knew he had gotten his stance right. When Ironhide lunged forward, he twisted to the side, bringing his knee up, but was pushed away by a strong hand. Instead of falling to the floor like every other time, he rolled before standing upright.

"Now we're talkin'," the red mech praised, bouncing on the balls of his pedes and taunting his opponent with a quirked finger.

The blue mech ignored it. He preferred for his opponents to come to him.

"C'mon, ya gotta learn to be on the offensive too," goaded Ironhide, beckoning again with a frown.

Deciding to figuratively 'bite the bullet,' Soundwave lurched forward, one hand by his hip and the other up in front of him. He jabbed out with his lower hand and then moved to the side just in case Ironhide aimed in the place where he was. He tried to deliver a back-handed blow, but found his fist caught in the grip. It felt like something cold slid down his spine, a flicker of memory teasing at his conscious…

'_No. Focus,'_ he told himself. He was stronger than this.

He _had_ to be stronger than this.

Twisting his arm out of the grip, he messily dodged a roundhouse kick, but recovered with a series of punches that put Ironhide on the defensive. The old mech was obviously hiding back his full ability, but he was smirking as he defended himself and even found his efforts to turn the tables blocked a few times. He ducked low, intending to uppercut the red mech with his full power, but left his neck bared for just a moment. A moment was all Ironhide needed to grab him by his neck and pull him, tossing him over to the far side of the mat with a grunt. Soundwave found himself disoriented for a moment and then a weight pinning him.

Suddenly his processor couldn't disassociate between the training exercise and his past trauma. He bucked, letting out a harsh cry of protest.

His optics were open, but he couldn't see, blinded by the illusion of a heavy mech on top of him. He continued to thrash long after the pressure lifted, panting hard.

As quickly as it had happened, the fog lifted and he could see the concerned faces of his cassettes above him. Ironhide was above them as well, frowning, and in his optics Soundwave saw the sympathy. He was reminded that Ironhide had been there that night about 5 weeks ago now. He had seen the tell tale stains. A hot rush of humiliation flooded him and he pushed himself up. There were other mechs around. They had seen what he had just done. Pushing away his creations (as loathe as was to do so), Soundwave hurried out. He would not look up. He did not want to see their sneers, did not want to see their pity.

The hallways of what was now his home blurred. He flung himself into his and Blaster's quarters, ignoring his friend's startled shout, and barricaded himself in his room. He collapsed onto the berth in a mix of embarrassment and anger.

"Why won't the memories go away?" he moaned piteously.

He should have been over this! It wasn't fair that he couldn't just _live_! No, that fragger had to haunt him wherever he went, didn't he? He couldn't even do a simple training exercise without bursting into fits! He sobbed angry tears. Why? Why, why, _why?_ He wanted to move past his abuse, so why did he keep reverting? The memories of the pressure on him, the pain, the excruciating pain, threatened to rise to the forefront of his mind once more.

Everything had been going so well, too. He had managed to fight against Ironhide, and pretty well, considering how out of practice he was, and how experienced the older mech was.

And then his utter shame that he had writhed and cried out like a frightened sparkling in front of both his cassettes and other Autobots. He and the Seeker's had managed to conceal the true story of what happened on the Decepticon base from public scrutiny. He hoped that this wouldn't open up a new round of questioning.

"Soundwave? What's wrong Main Machine, ya looked pretty spooked," Blaster called through the door.

Soundwave huffed and opened the door. As usual, there was Blaster, ready to offer an open audial. He stepped back, letting the other mech in, who's expression had adopted that worried frown he had been wearing lately.

"'Wave, I'm worried about you. You haven't talked to me at all in the past few days." Blaster said, sitting on the berth and patting the space next to him in invitation. Soundwave accepted. Although, instead of sitting with their shoulders touching, the telepath had skimmed the other mechs processor and found that he wanted to embrace him. So he grabbed Blaster's arm, guided them back so they were laying down, and leaned his helm on a red shoulder.

He had felt awkward, thinking about snuggling up like this, but when Blaster looped an arm around his shoulders, he relaxed. It felt nice.

"Just another flashback," he said quietly.

Blaster winced. "In the training room?"

"Yes."

"Trigger?"

Soundwave shuttered his optics, still smarting from the acute embarrassment. "Ironhide avoided getting a hit from me by tossing me to the ground and pinning me during a spar. It shouldn't have…but the pressure-"

"Easy," crooned the boom box, "it's okay."

"No it's not," Soundwave whispered harshly, looking up into his friend's optics. "It's not. I should be my usual self. I should be functioning normally. Not remembering details of what I suffered under that…that glitch. Everything I was has been ripped away from me and now getting it back seems near impossible."

Blaster was silent for a moment, and then he replied cautiously, "So…you want to be the emotionless telepath then whose only thought was to follow?"

Soundwave was ready to hiss at him, feeling betrayed, then realised what the other mech was pointing out. Finally, he replied, "No."

The red mech murmured, "I didn't like your 'usual' you while you were a Con. If everything has been ripped away from you…maybe it's just another chance to start again." As the blue mech pondered this, he went on, "I, for one, am proud of you 'Wave. I mean, mechs or femmes don't bounce back from this easily. I know you're frustrated. I would be too. I'd want to be back to my life, rockin' out tunes and having a good time. But we gotta let ourselves heal."

Sighing shakily, the tapedeck muttered, "Thank you. You always seem to have the right words at the right times."

The red mech shrugged, saying, "Hey, it's the least I can do. You are my best friend after all."

Soundwave fought a blush coming to his face. He was reminded how much _more_ Blaster thought of him that just 'friends.' His anger subsided, as did his humiliation, but they were a bad aftertaste in the background compared to his renewed thoughts on the red boom box. Blaster was in love with him, which is why he cared for him, was so good to him. Embracing on the berth as they were, Soundwave thought that he would have been uncomfortable in such close contact. But the knowledge of Blaster's love seemed to make him relax even more. It was a comfort to know that Blaster would be waiting for him. Had waited for him for so long, and wouldn't hurt him, or touch him if he was uncomfortable.

Licking his lips uncertainly, the telepath asked, "Blaster…?"

"Yeah?"

Soundwave cursed himself for losing his nerve at that moment. Instead, he curled closer to the warmth his friend's body offered and murmured, "Indulge me a song?"

Blaster smiled at him and began to hum that same, favourite lullaby they had written together all those years ago.

* * *

><p>Ironhide, finished with his damage control and assuring the mechs in the training room that the only reason Soundwave had started to thrash around was because he had fritzed a motor control connector during the sparring session. Part of his job done, he turned to the cassettes, huddled silently in a secluded corner of the training room. The red mech sighed. Poor younglings. Seeing them around base, behaving like younglings would normally do, almost made him forget what dangerous and deadly terrors they could be. It was times like this especially, when he would feel his guardian protocols kick in.<p>

"Hey," he rumbled gently. "Hope ya know I neva meant him real harm."

"We know," Ravage said softly, "it was practice."

Rumble and Frenzy weren't looking too happy. Rumble whined, "Why our creator? He was so good! He played hero for the first time in his life and he got punished for it."

There was no need to ask what the purple mini mech was referring to. All present knew.

"Some things ya just cain't change," said Ironhide, sitting down with a creak of joints. He looked at all the cassettes. "And this is one o' them. Let ya're creator sort 'imself out. We all know 'e can do it." Ratbat perked up at this, some of his anxiousness disappearing from his face.

"Ya can't predict that," muttered Frenzy, still upset.

Ironhide felt more pity for the younger ones at this. "Well, Soundwave's been fightin' for a long time. Only this time, it's less fightin' on the side of a war, 'n' more about fightin' for 'imself. For you pipsqueaks. For the future."

After a pause, Laserbeak intoned quietly, "Then we'll be patient. We want him to fight."

Ironhide smiled. "Well, then ya're halfway there already."

* * *

><p>Skywarp smirked at the exhausted group of Aerialbots in front of him. "Well done on not falling out of the sky, freaking out about the height we went, or purging when we did that barrel roll and triple loop combo. You lot are free to go, and we'll do another session in a couple of days."<p>

The gestalt left to enter the Ark, their wings drooping from tiredness, prompting Starscream to smirk and Skywarp to giggle, "Aw, little jets. Good thing we're here to teach them, right Star?"

"Well, it was much better than sitting around all day," conceded the tricolour jet with a haughty expression.

Thundercracker, however, was silent. He had been so all day. Turning back to his trine leader, the teleporter gave a pleading look for some alone time. Starscream nodded, igniting his thrusters and rising up to the top of Mt. Saint Hillary so he could watch over his trinemates as they talked. One they were alone, Skywarp moved forward, touching his lover's arm. "Thundercracker?"

As if coming out of a trance, the blue flier jerked, his optics finally focusing. Frowning, he asked, "Where are the younglings?"

"Gone. Trainings over…you've been really quiet today TC," said the black and purple mech. It was times like these he wished they had already bonded, so he could feel what his lover was feeling and comfort him through that magical link all bondmates shared.

Thundercracker sighed and pulled Skywarp to him, tucking his helm in the crook of his lover's neck. "I sometimes think about what happened…" he admitted abruptly, his words muffled by Skywarp's neck. "And I feel helpless because I can see it all happening again and again. I don't ever want to see you like that. It taints me, remembering what happened. I don't want to remember."

The teleporter felt a pang of surprise at the subject and raised a hand to cradle his lover's helm. "It takes time TC."

The blue Seeker growled, lifting his helm up to look the black jet in the optic. "Time. Well, I wish it would go faster so that memory fades and is only replaced by how beautiful you look in consensual interfacing. My stupid programming can't let me see the happy memories, only the horrible ones." He tightened his embrace and growled again, sullen. Skywarp pressed a kiss to his helm and it gave him a warm rush of comfort.

"I love you," Skywarp finally murmured.

Bringing his helm up once more and placing a light peck to his lover's lips, Thundercracker replied, "I love you too. Sometimes I don't wish to burden you when you have your own issues-"

"But," interrupted the younger flier, "we are together and we do things as a couple now. So…a burden shared is better than one kept pent up. Right?"

Thundercracker smirked, reminded of his future mate's optimism. "Right."

* * *

><p>"No."<p>

"Aw, c'mon. It has merit y'know."

"No. I am not becoming an exhibitionist."

"It's for a good cause!"

"It won't be any good if Soundwave does not react as you hope he will react," Prowl answered, pointing out the logical flaws in his bondmate's plan. "Not only that, but this is also a method for satisfying your own fantasy that someone is watching you interface."

"No! Well…yes, that too," Jazz admitted sheepishly, but he went on, "Ah told ya, Ah remember someone got abused like Soundwave did back on Cybertron before the war, and the mech walked in on his friends and he was really acceptin' of it and it helped him move on. He learned to associate between good and bad 'facing. C'mon, Ah reckon' it'll help."

Prowl looked into his bondmates optics. He sighed, surrendering under that pleading gaze and the pulses of adoration from the saboteur. "Fine. But if this doesn't work, _you_ get you pick up the pieces. And we are _not_ doing this in my office, so get that devious little thought out of your mind." Jazz's face fell slightly, but he kept grinning. "And," the tactician went on with a more lusty smirk, "you are going to be on the bottom this time."

"Aw baby," the saboteur murmured, clicking his visor down, "ya know just the right thing to say to me." He quickly kissed his lover and skipped out of the room merrily, Prowl shaking his helm in bemusement behind him.

'_I must learn to stop giving in to him_.'

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Admit it Prowl, you will always give into Jazz XD**

**I hope you liked this one. Please review. I'd like to see what you liked about it. I'm really trying with this story. I want it to work out so much, so encouragement is much loved. Again, thank you for all my reviewers/alert/favourites. It means a lot to me. **


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:**First of all, thank you to all reviewers/favourites/alerts. It keeps me going on!

A thank you to sunnysidesofblue for giving me the idea in the first scene. They mentioned it in a review for Ch.16. Thanks for the plot bunny!

And to Katea-nui who took a peek at the first scene and told me it flowed right.

**Disclaimer:** No, unfortunately like a lot of the cool things in life, I do not own Transformers.

**Warnings: **Sticky interfacing, unintended voyeurism, talking about interfacing and sexual TF genitalia, implied violence.

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 22<strong>

* * *

><p>Waking up in his berthroom, Soundwave basked in the glory of the morning.<p>

The first night without a nightmare or even a flicker of a nightmare. No, his dreams had been blissfully blank and calm. The morning light shone through a small window at the top of one of the walls, creating a beautiful golden cast on his recharging cassettes in their bunks. Only Ratbat wasn't in his bunk, preferring to cuddle up with his creator.

Relaxing back into the berth, he absentmindedly hummed a few low notes of a song and stroked along his youngling's frame in his contentment.

A light 'ping' from his processor interrupted his peace, and he quickly read the message sent to him by Prowl.

'_I am free for a talk this morning. If you would like to come as soon as possible? – Prowl.'_

Soundwave felt excited anticipation rise through him. Usually his talks with the Praxian involved energon and a few nice long games of chess. Oh how he loved the game. When not on comms duty or watching Jazz train his cassettes to be Autobot spies, chess was one of his favourite hobbies.

He rose, making sure Ratbat's rest was undisturbed before creeping silently out of the room.

In the hallway, he darted a quick look to Blaster's open door. His friend was still asleep.

Good. He wouldn't need to disturb him either, then.

It seemed like a lazy day for everyone. Not everyone was out and about the Ark yet. And although some mechs were still wary of he and his creations, most had accepted him as something that was there. He was here to stay and all knew it. He nodded in greeting to the few mechs he met. Powerglide, Ironhide – who nodded back – and Wheeljack. His pace was relaxed, easy, as he made his way to the SIC's quarters which he shared with Jazz.

Once in front of the door, he entered in the special code Prowl gave him, ready to enter. But the sight greeting his optics made him pause.

The lights were dimmed and large scented candles were scattered around the spacious living room. On the low table before the couch was a platter with what looked to be the few remains of high-end energon goodies. Soft, sensual saxophone music was playing in the background, its sound pleasing, but the sound of it making Soundwave confused. If he didn't know better, he'd say that there had been a very romantic date held here. The place looked elegant and tasteful.

But where was Prowl? The mech had invited him after all.

A low sound directed his attention to another door towards the back of a room. He could see it was slightly open.

Wary, he entered the living room and let the door close behind him.

He stepped carefully and quietly. The low noise was suspicious. Back to the wall, he made his way towards the door before he turned slowly, angling his helm to see through the opening…

…and almost stumbled back in shock.

His optics, however, were strangely glued to the scene.

Prowl was sitting on the edge of the berth, his lap full of moaning, hot Porsche as their hips rolled together. The doorwinger's spike was buried deeply in his mate's valve, both of them gasping softly with each slow grind. Jazz had Prowl's helm cupped in his hands as they kissed in quick, gentle bursts, not being able to help the soft moans they made as they interfaced.

At first, the urge to _do something_ hit Soundwave.

But….what could he do?

There was nothing. It was nothing like his assault. It was…loving. It was beautiful. It looked like their bodies were a perfect symphony. There was no resistance, no violence. It had been a long time since he'd seen what lovemaking was really about. A sudden stab of jealousy made itself known, and he immediately berated himself for it. While he might be jealous that no lover had ever touched him the way the pair were touching each other – Prowl assisting his mate in sliding up and down his spike, his mouth feathering over his neck while Jazz teased those fanned doorwings – he knew Prowl's back-story. It must have taken them a long time to get to this stage. As they moaned once more, Soundwave felt his next emotion more keenly than the ones previous.

Awkwardness.

He had just intruded on a very consensual, very private moment between two mechs. As much as he was curious about the tenderness of the way they moved, it was rude. Not to mention…how would he ever look at the two in the optic again?

He shifted backwards, controlling his venting to make sure not to disturb them. He kept shuffling backwards and kept his optics on the door, to make sure they didn't notice them. He hoped the saxophone music covered the slight shuffles of his feet and the movement of joints.

The blue mech felt his plan crumble when he knocked into a side table behind him, and he frantically reached out behind him to steady it only to have it tumble away from him in a loud clatter.

'_Slag!' _he cursed to himself, but it was the voice calling out from the berthroom that made his tanks drop.

"Who's there?" demanded Jazz.

Turning and dashing for the door, Soundwave hoped they would just stay and their berthroom and continue their private time.

Again, fate intervened when a voice was closer asked in an incredulous tone, "Soundwave?"

He turned, seeing both helms peeking out from their berthroom door to preserve their modesty, and immediately felt his faceplates heat with embarrassment.

"I-I didn't mean to intrude. I got the comm. you sent sir," he offered quietly, not looking at the two black and whites. Before they could reply, he palmed the door sensor and slipped out, breaking into a run while no one was looking. He had to go to the one place that made him feel normal.

Outside.

* * *

><p>Prowl retreated back onto the berth, chuckling at his smirking mate.<p>

"Kink satisfied?"

"Like ya wouldn't believe babe. Thanks for trustin' me," Jazz replied, pouncing on his mech and kissing him while he asked over the bond, ::_That was so sneaky. Ya gonna go talk to him about it later?::_

_::Yes, love. But you and I have some …unfinished business.::_

Jazz could only purr in delight as his mate sunk perfectly into him once more.

* * *

><p>Sunshine.<p>

Beautiful as it shone through the clouds. All due to the chemical processes that occurred within Earth's star, the Sun, which radiated out light and heat that took roughly eight minutes to reach him.

On Cybertron, it took the radiation from Alpha Centauri half an hour from the outer boundaries.

Still, it was something concrete. Something to amaze at while musing on sensitive topics.

Twirling a few long blades of grass in his fingers, Soundwave reigned in his emotions. Yes, he was embarrassed in intruding on the two officer's moment. It had been more mortifying than being around the Decepticon parties when things turned to drunkenness and sex.

But more than that…he was feeling a little vulnerable. Not only did he believe his friendships with the SIC and TIC had been irrevocably broken, but he had yearned for it.

That is, interfacing.

In that moment when he had saw how gentle it was, he had felt a tingle of arousal in his frame – the first in a long, long time.

Soundwave sighed, dropping his helm into his hands. He had not touched himself underneath his interfacing panel ever since his first few days at the Autobot base, to make sure that there really was no rips or tears in his valve. Every time there had been a phantom pain since then he had ignored it. That panel had been firmly closed. Now, however, he felt his programming get ready to switch on if he so wished it.

He pushed it away. He was sure he was nowhere _near_ ready for something like that yet.

He felt a tiny prod along his creator-creation bond from Ravage, but he firmly denied it. He did not wish to be interrupted as he thought. His creations should know that.

The telepath relaxed into the rock behind him as he turned over what he had seen in his mind. Never had he been treated like that in an interface. The few he had experienced over the vorns had been relatively quick, impersonal affairs with an almost predictable formula from himself or the mechs he chose to allow access to his valve. Light prep, a bit of dirty talk, and then thrusting away until release. If a partner didn't release, there was usually a toy of some sort involved. It had been unfulfilling. But seeing Prowl and Jazz…that was not mere sex, it was indeed making love. He had expected to feel an aversion, to feel afraid.

It was the opposite.

He was both curious and shy about the topic. Not all mechs were given a manual that read 'The Beginner's Guide to Interfacing.' What was good and what was bad? Obviously his assault had been 'bad,' it was not even interfacing really. Completely ignoring the subject until now had been just what he needed for his mentality. He was now prepared to be more receptive to maybe talking about it due to his sudden curiosity. Talk about…maybe that he wanted to be with another again.

'_Be with Blaster?'_ a part of him whispered.

Maybe.

If he could summon up his courage to talk about it.

The fact he was considering the possibility of just talking to Blaster about a possible future transition from friends to more, Soundwave felt it was an achievement. Before this, he would have retreated into his shell to brood some more.

Knowing that his thoughts would only loop in on themselves in a convoluted mess if he went any further, Soundwave let his thoughts go blank and employed the meditating techniques he had been taught. If anything, maybe when he came back to reality, it would give him a clearer perception.

* * *

><p>Rumble joined his brothers in pushing against the bond they had with Soundwave. But it remained resolutely shut.<p>

"Damn it! I wonder which fragger upset him now!" Frenzy hissed beside him, but all six brothers were in agreement.

"Why is Dad ignoring us?" Ratbat asked. He had been so warm, and then his creator had left!

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw said in unison, "Perhaps Jazz will be able to tell us. He would know."

Steeljaw, relaxing near them, said, "Knowing Jazz, he's probably refuelling right now. It would be the perfect time to ask him. Especially since you all can sneak out because Blaster's not coming out of those washracks for another few minutes at least. He's singing." They all chuckled at that, before Ravage hopped down from the large couch and made for the door, his brothers following. Eject and Rewind opened it, and grinned at them encouragingly as they left.

"Come," ordered Ravage, and he broke into an easy lope, determined to find out what was bothering his creator, and pit help them if they made him revert to what he had been after all of the progress he made.

Just as Steeljaw suggested, there was the visored mech, whistling jauntily as he headed for the rec-room.

"Jazz!" Ratbat cried out , halting the TIC who grinned at them all.

"Hey! What's crackin' little mechs?"

They stopped before their commander and Ravage asked calmly, "Do you know where our creator is?"

"No, why?" asked the saboteur, shaking his helm in a negative.

"He's not lettin' us feel through the bond and we thought ya would have somethin' for us," said Frenzy in an accusing tone.

Jazz's face turned concerned and he muttered to himself, "Perhaps it _didn't_ work out the way we had planned…"

"What didn't?" asked Rumble.

Rubbing the back of his helm sheepishly, the visored mech said, "Well, Prowler and Ah had an idea to maybe get Soundwave to be a little more…acceptin' of things."

Rumble exploded, accusing, "Well, whatever the frag ya did it's made him shut us out ya stupid slagger! It's made him worse!"

Jazz leapt into action, pre-emptively predicting that Rumble and Frenzy would come at him first, while the other four would watch and wait for the perfect timing. He dodged and whirled to the side. He knew them too well in their fighting styles after the past few weeks of trainings not to avoid their angry blows. "Hey, he looked fine when he left. Ever consider maybe he just wants to think?"

"Desist!" cried a voice.

They all turned to see Soundwave, his arms crossed and looking disapprovingly at his creations. "I thought you would all have more restraint than that."

His simple words made his creations hang their heads in their shame for embarrassing their creator.

Soundwave stepped forward, focussed on his creations and resolutely ignored the presence of the other mech in the hallway. Quietly, he said, "I am your creator. I may have been unable to fulfil my duties as your father for the past few weeks in full. But that is no excuse for you all to take my burdens as your own. You must not worry about me. Are we clear?"

They all nodded.

He stroked each on the helm before beckoning them to follow him.

Jazz could only shake his helm in amusement. Soundwave had completely ignored him that whole time. Opening up the bond to his mate, he said, ::Ya better talk to Sounders today. Looks like he's still feelin' just a mite embarrassed.::

* * *

><p>As they bundled themselves into their quarters, Soundwave noticed that Blaster's cassettes had gone, but the mech himself had yet to leave. He smiled and greeted, "Hey 'Wave. Hey guys. What have you all been up to?"<p>

As the six cassettes walked by him without a word or a look in his direction, he lifted an optic ridge and said, "Oh-kay…what's eatin' them?"

Soundwave sighed. "I have merely taken disciplinary actions for their actions in attacking Jazz for information on my location. He is their superior officer and they must be reminded. They are confined to my room for an hour."

Blaster winced in sympathy. As their creations were so closely linked to their sparks, they could push their feelings on any matter through if the blocks weren't up. He flopped on the couch, sprawling back, and waited for Soundwave to make the next move. The mech looked like he had a lot on his processor.

He spluttered in shock, however, when the other mech simply laid down on top of him and gave him a hug. "Wave?"

"What? Am I not allowed to perform a quick experiment to see if I can initiate touch easier than I have been doing?" Soundwave asked, leaning his helm on Blaster's chest so he could read the expressions on his face.

The red mech quickly wrapped an arm around the telepaths back to assure him it wasn't a rejection, but asked, "What do you mean? I know you've been a bit hesitant with approaching for touch, but…" something clicked in the comm. officers processor. "You saw somethin' to make you accept it more?"

Soundwave blushed and let what he had seen tumble out of his mouth. "I did not intend to intrude in such a private moment. He had asked me there. I couldn't have known…"

Blaster snickered, catching on, "So who'd ya see doin' it?"

"Prowl and Jazz."

The boom box couldn't help it as he laughed, imagining his poor friend stumbling on the two commanders interfacing. He quickly looked at Soundwave to make sure his laughing wasn't making him feel teased, before chuckling once more and asking, "Well if I know Jazz, he either pounced on Prowl or they were doing one of those mini romantic date things with music and flowers and…" he broke into another spate of giggles when he saw the cheeks beneath that visor heat in a blush, and he knew he'd hit the money on it.

Calmed, and re-positioning himself slightly so he could converse better, Blaster said, "Well, at least it didn't freak you out. I don't ever want to see you in such a state, 'Wave."

"Prowl had commed me. So I went. When I got into the room…I've never seen such preparations for initiating intercourse before. I didn't know, but then I saw them…and at first I wanted to act, but then I saw how gentle they were in their actions." He was still blushing, but at least he wasn't some stammering youngling struggling to talk about sex. His meditating had refrained him from acting like that, at least. "Blaster, I've never seen interfacing to be so together and selfless. I must admit, it has me…curious."

Blaster was silent, fighting the urge to give in to his love for this mech who was still, in a way, trying to find himself. He fought the urge to take that helm in his hands and kiss him, show him how _good_ love could be. When that face shifted to look directly in his optics at the word 'curious,' he couldn't describe the sudden intense need to protect and cherish.

Smiling to bring his attentive skills back to Soundwave, Blaster said quietly, "There are many ways to interface. I'm kinda glad you saw it if it makes you a bit more confident and makes you move on. As for the curiosity…" he had to say it, even if his friend chose another instead of him, "when you're ready, I'm sure there will be the right mech or femme out there for you."

"Thank you," murmured Soundwave, and he knew how much it pained Blaster to keep his affections 'secret.'

The red mech's smile turned cheekier after a moment of them staring into each other's optics, and he asked, "So…did they catch ya?"

Tucking his face into the yellow chest to hide his embarrassment, Soundwave replied, muffled, "Yes."

Blaster broke into uproarious laughter, while the blue mech groaned in mortification. "It's not that funny. You are being immature."

"Funny? Are you kiddin'? I know it's really embarrassing, but it is funny. What did you do to get their attention?"

"Knocked over a side table," Soundwave replied dryly, willing his friend to stop.

When Blaster continued, he said lowly, "Shut. Up."

"Aw," snickered the smiling mech, and raised his hand to pet comfortingly down Soundwave's back, "don't worry, I did something like that too. Accidentally walked in on Hound and Mirage once. It was so bad, because Mirage was invisible and Hound was just there in the closet and…yeah, I know how you feel. Let me guess, when you saw Jazz in the hallway, you wouldn't even look at him…right?"

"Yes," responded the telepath in a disgruntled tone.

"Well, you're gonna have to talk to them sooner or later. Not to mention, I think you really like being friends with Prowl."

"I do," Soundwave hummed thoughtfully. "But he, like me, is a private mech. I intruded on such a private thing. How does one ask for forgiveness on that?"

"Don't worry. I'm sure Prowl knows it was an accident. If it's awkward, you both will just have to work at communicating as if nothing happened," Blaster supplied helpfully.

Soundwave returned his gaze back to Blaster's, and was immediately entranced by those cerulean optics. So honest. So full of care. And love. And like that, the mood changed again. "As if nothing happened," he breathed, his optics travelling over that handsome faceplate and settling on those full lips. Could he? _Should_ he? Would it be right, would he feel as if it was going too fast, would he be haunted in his recharge or would he have a flashback? Blaster was now staring at him too, looking at each other in the silence, tension building. He knew that Blaster was in love with him. Could he move those few inches closer to confirm if this tiny feeling in his spark was right? Too many questions with no answers.

"'Wave," whispered the red mech, stopping his arm from stroking over the strong blue back struts, his spark thudding loud in his audials. Could Soundwave hear it? Surely. At having him so close…

The soft sound of a chime sounded in their audials and they broke away, optics shuttering fast and realising how meshed their EM fields were in their relaxed state. Soundwave lifted himself off, regrettably leaving the comfort of Blaster's arms. If he was troubled, he didn't let it show as he smoothed his faceplates and went to the door without ever looking back. If he had, he would have seen the boom box with his face set in an expression of disappointment.

He opened the door and felt shock overcome him.

He didn't expect Prowl to seek him out so quickly.

* * *

><p>Ramjet hurried through the base to his trines quarters, cringing from the sound of Megatron's furious ranting as it echoed through the underwater base.<p>

Things had gotten bad ever since Starscream and his trine had left. And Soundwave too! No one knew why they had defected. Some said that they had simply had enough. Some said it was a special spy mission to make it _look_ like they were Autobots. And then, there had been Hook, who had insinuated it had been something that Megatron had done.

Not to mention their energon stocks were dwindling low. They only had 15% of the capacity needed for the army left, and their rations kept getting smaller and smaller.

He had replaced Starscream as Air Commander and was now TIC (or was it SIC? He couldn't remember what a growling Megatron had said). Once, he had teased the tricolour jet about being pathetic and not being able to do his job correctly or efficiently. Oh sure, he had respected Starscream to an extent, but it didn't stop him from pointing out his ex-Commander's flaws.

Now he knew exactly what Starscream had to cope with.

So many hungry mouths to feed, keeping all fliers in line, making sure each gestalt was happy, making sure _Megatron_ was happy – and damn if he wasn't becoming harder and harder to please as the days rolled from one to the next. It became a monotonous fear that the grey warlord would simply blast them away from displeasing him. And now, he feared for he and his trine.

As much as he hated the Autobots and their 'peace' ideals, something had to be better than this. Tonight he had been used as his leader's personal punching bag. He never wanted to go through it again.

Stumbling in, he immediately felt Thrust and Dirge beside him, cooing over him and gasping over his dents, scrapes, and cuts.

"Slagger," whispered Thrust, picking his white and black mate up and carrying him to the berth so he and Dirge could pet over his wings.

Ramjet was thankful for his trinemates, who were also his bondmates. As unlikely as their relationship could be sometimes, he was thankful for them when they dropped all their walls and comforted each other like this. It wasn't peace. But it was content.

"We can't stay here. I can't take another beating like that with what little resources we have," he coughed out.

Dirge's optics flashed brightly and he asked, "You want me to use that secret comm. line?"

"Yes," affirmed Ramjet. "Contact Starscream. We need to get out of here."

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><p><strong>AN: Ooh, I kept you hanging, didn't I?**

**Hope you enjoyed! Let me know in a review! Love you all. **


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **Again, I am so pleased by everyone's responses! Thank you to all my reviewers/favourites, etc, etc. You all inspire me to keep going. Here's a little gift, I'm doing this early. In this first scene, I really wanted no drama. Just…none. Be warned, this is also a bit shorter, but that's because it's setting up all the little bits and pieces I have planned for next chapter.

**Warnings: **None really.

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 23<strong>

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><p>Prowl merely looked up from his datapad once the door opened and said, "Follow me please."<p>

And turned away without looking back.

Soundwave looked back to Blaster who shrugged as if to say 'go along with it.' It was inevitable, so he sighed and caught up to the SIC, trying to keep his memory from replaying the embarrassing scene he had witnessed. Was he going to be lectured? He had no reason to believe he'd be thrown out of the Autobots for this, but was there some kind of reprimand for trespassing on an officers private time?

As they walked, he couldn't help thinking about what he and Blaster had been doing. Had been about to do? Would they really have kissed? The thought made his faceplates heat. Blaster had been so close to him. There was no barrier of fear of the unknown anymore. Knowing it wouldn't be prudent to think about it just yet, he silenced his thoughts and prepared himself for this little meeting with Prowl.

They reached the familiar door of Prowl's office, and he went through and sat at his desk, mentioning for Soundwave to sit in front of him.

The telepaths nervousness mounted as he sat, resisting the urge to fidget.

The tactician arranged his datapads, before looking at him neutrally and clasping his hands together. "Are you alright Soundwave?"

Well, that certainly wasn't what he had been expecting.

"Sir?" he asked quietly.

Prowl asked again in a gentler tone, "Are you alright? I know you happened upon Jazz and I in an intimate moment, and I realise it could have triggered some sort of dark emotion within, or a memory from your abuse."

Sweet relief welled up when he realised his friend wasn't angry at all, and Soundwave smiled. "You're not mad I accidently saw that?"

"No. While it _is_ definitely embarrassing, " here the Praxian had the grace to blush, "I am not angry. These things can happen. And as such I am more concerned for your mental state at this present time over my slight bashfulness. When you ran away, I feared that the sight of interfacing had caused you to revert. But now I see it is not the case."

Relaxing now, glad that the air had been cleared, Soundwave replied, "Actually, you may have inadvertently encouraged the well being of my mental state. I ran because I needed some time to think over how I feel about seeing that, and allowing myself to distinguish that from what happened to me. And…if I may be so bold, you two really are quite made for each other."

Prowl smiled back. As long as Soundwave was moving forward and was no longer fearful of interfacing, perhaps he and Blaster would get together sooner. He was the SIC, not blind, after all. His own mortification that he had been watched notwithstanding, he was glad. Bowing his helm, he said, "I like to think so. Jazz completes me. I'm sure that one day soon in the future you will find someone who completes you as you are now."

The crimson optic band flashed once in understanding. Prowl _knew._

All was well between them at least. Tilting his helm to the side, he requested, "Chess?"

"Of course. I will always be here to support my friends Soundwave."

* * *

><p>To be given a suitable function and purpose to take your mind off things was a blessing as far as Starscream was concerned.<p>

He needed time. A lot of it. Lab work was especially calming and relaxing and made him feel purposeful at the same time. So he wouldn't feel like a complete sap. Wheeljack and Perceptor had no qualms in giving him the run of the labs after his plans for a more efficient energon convertor for sunlight had been revealed to them. It was his contribution to the Autobots in exchange for living as a Neutral on base while his trinemates took charge of training the Aerialbots and any other mech with flight capabilities and wings.

Working on another formula, Starscream relished in his old work. How refreshing it was to build something that would create, and not destroy. If Megatron had listened to him back on Cybertron, the Decepticon army would have had enough energon for millennia by now.

Alas, his ex-leader was a cruel buffoon.

His thoughts turned to Skyfire, and unbeknownst to himself, he smiled.

After clearing the air with Skyfire admitting his feelings things had become less strained between them. Before, there had been tension. Now, there was significantly less. They still slept in the same rooms and in different berths as he didn't feel safe enough to be in his own room just yet. He found the slight rumble of Skyfire's engine relaxing before he slipped off into recharge. Safe.

Not to mention all those sweet little looks the shuttle would throw his way were slowly melting the walls he had placed within himself. It made his confidence grow in leaps and bounds each day.

"Mmm," he murmured, crossing out a section of the formula when he saw it wouldn't work, before looking through what he had.

The Seeker was just about to test what Gallium would do to the balancing out of the equation when his comm. beeped.

Starscream froze, bolting upright, recognising the unique signal.

The chirp came through again, and he lurched for the nearest data terminal. He wanted to see them. Make sure they were okay. Why else would they be contacting him?

He extended a data exchange cable and plugged himself in, feeding the private comm. into the terminal. Immediately the face of a worried Ramjet came into view.

"Commander," the Conehead said.

Seeing the scrapes and dents on the other fliers helm, Starscream felt a sense of dread sink deep in his tank. "Ramjet. Finally, you use this private line. Idiot. How many times have you allowed him to beat you before you finally called me?"

The usually prideful black and white mech shifted nervously. "This is the third and the worst so far."

"Just beatings?" probed Starscream, wishing that beatings were the full extent of Ramjet's injuries.

"Yes sir."

The tricoloured jet sighed a little in relief. As much as he and his trine found the Coneheads intolerable at times, they were still under his command, still his Seekers. They were good soldiers when they focused and were as undeserving of abuse as any other mech. Nodding, he replied, "Good. Now. Talk to me."

"We understand why you left now, commander," said Ramjet apologetically, regretting that he never took the time to understand Starscream more.

"No you don't," Starscream hissed, "and I hope you never will. Continue."

Taken aback, the lead Conehead bowed his helm and went on. "Energon is at an all time low. Megatron keeps planning raids but we are unsuccessful because of our low energy. He is yelling and punishing everyone. He's even placed the Combaticons in stasis until we either get Shockwave's body or we get more energon. He's threatened my bondmates, and-"

"Hush. What do you mean, your bondmates?" Starscream broke in, annoyed he had not been told. He had never seen Ramjet particularly close to any but his trine…his suspicion was confirmed with the white flier's next sentence.

"My trine. Thrust and Dirge are my bondmates."

Optics narrowing to dangerous slits, the Aerial Commander hissed, "You dolt. You useless pile of scrap, why didn't you tell me about this earlier? I could have protected you all better!"

Ramjet looked up, his own optics fierce now. "I didn't know if you would support us then. We had to keep it secret for fear."

Ire sated by the explanation for the moment, Starscream said, "And he's no doubt placed the Combaticons into stasis because I was the creator of them. As a lesson to his troops."

"With them gone, you gone, and Soundwave and his fiends gone, it feels too empty and hollow here. My trine has to leave. Do you think we could come over to the Autobots?"

Switching to Seeker cant, Starscream threatened, "If this is a ploy, if you threaten the peace I have found here, I will not be responsible for me subsequent actions. Clear?" When the younger Seeker nodded, he said quietly, "I may be able to grant you some amnesty if I appeal to Prime. He has a dream for a united Cybertron. I stand with him to help that vision come true. If you become a threat to it, your parts will be used to make energon converters. Now get off this channel before anyone catches you. I will contact you when _I'm_ ready. Stay out of trouble until we get you out of there. And if something worse happens, get out, get your trinemates out, no matter what happens. That's an order."

"Yes commander," replied Ramjet before hastily cutting the comm. call as instructed.

Slumping back and shuttering his optics, the tricoloured mech sighed heavily. He had hoped that call would never come and that the Coneheads would have been fine. Even without Shockwave, Megatron was up to all his old tricks. It could only escalate from here.

* * *

><p>Optimus Prime looked up at the sharp knock, before rumbling, "Come in."<p>

Starscream strode in, worry and determination etched clearly on his face. He sat and immediately said, "I've had a communication from the Conehead Trine."

The Prime immediately frowned. "How did that get through Red Alert's defences?"

"It's a special private comm. link. Regardless, we have a more pressing issue regarding the Decepticons. The Combaticons are in stasis, their energon is low, Megatron is going insane and is clinging to his dreams of grandeur as leader. Ramjet was dented from a beating. I don't want it to get worse," Starscream poured out, hoping they could just formulate a plan and get rid of the tyrant once and for all.

Optimus surveyed the Seeker, looking for any discrepancy in body language. Seeing none, he slowly nodded. "It is time for this war to end. Prowl and I will work off the information you have given us. I ask that you are fully prepared to fight. And that you will be able to bear the sight of Megatron."

Starscream looked evenly into his leader's optics. Why did he feel so damn calm around Prime? Must be the Matrix. He lowered his voice and replied, "I will be. I don't want to fear. I want to live on Cybertron and fly freely once more. Once that is accomplished I shall truly be free."

Optimus softened slightly, spark going out to the poor abused being who had remained so strong. "I am glad you are healing. Such a fine scientist and warrior like you should be free to fly."

The flier gave a small, genuine smile before standing and leaving, wings fluttering in his accomplishment. He was very glad to finally be serving under a Prime who practiced what he preached and was willing to give he and his Seekers freedom.

Meanwhile the Matrix-bearer exhaled, steeling himself. So many years of war…could this intelligence be the perfect information – in conjunction with Soundwave and Ravage's information – to bring the fighting to end once and for all? He hoped with all his spark it would be true. Truth be told, he was tired. His soldiers were tired. They needed to learn how to live again. He chuckled at the thought that it took some abused mechs switching sides to really motivate them all.

Well unlikely things tend to happen. Best to make them turn out well.

* * *

><p>The cassettes finally came out of Soundwave's room, sulking a little at their punishment.<p>

Rumble thought it was completely unjustified.

They had been trying to protect Soundwave! They all knew that their creator was feeling much better with Blaster's help (not to mention other bots), but they recognised he was still fragile. So, he felt it was only right that they try to protect him. To be admonished, reminded that he could deal without them-

'_Stop thinking about it_,' Ravage cut into his internal rant abruptly. '_When creator finds out, he won't be happy that you are not allowing him to be secure in his parenting role to us.'_

"Shut it, kitty," he snapped, feeling his twin come up beside him and give him a pat on the back for reassurance.

"Two seconds out and already you guys are bickerin'?"

Blaster had been the one to ask the question, sitting on his couch and a messy stack of reports he had to complete next to him. He looked over at them, and there was no mistaking the concern in his gaze.

"S'not fair," whined Rumble.

The boom box grinned and said, "I would've done the same. Sure, Jazz is all smiley when he wants to be, but don't forget he's special ops. He can turn off that charm as quick as he can turn it on. You're lucky he likes you. He's punched a mech for being insubordinate to him once. I think Sounders giving you an hour of no fun is fair."

Rumble was about to yell again when Ravage growled and stalked in front of him. "Leave him alone. He was merely commenting."

"Move."

"Both of you calm down!" Blaster said firmly, standing, prepared to physically separate the two if things came to blows.

Swivelling his helm to the larger mech, Rumble said lowly, "Don't treat me like you're my creator, no matter how close to reality you're becoming it."

Cold shock shot down Blaster's spine at the words. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ravage snarled, shaking his helm. Rumble ignored it and smirked, cocking a hip to the side. "Like we don't know! All the googly optics, always looking after him when he walks out of the room, or _anywhere_, singing that silly sappy love song, and the fact you've been so bloody close to him since we got here. Drop the act, Blaster, we all know you've got the hots for our creator."

The other cassettes stiffened at their siblings rudeness, wary of Blaster's reaction.

The red mech set his face into hard lines as he knelt before the purple cassette, optics blazing with blue fire, raw emotion exemplified. He knew that once he said this, there was no turning back on his feelings. "I do not just have the _hots_ for your creator. It is not as petty as that. I want to give him my all if he'll have me. I want to have all of him as well. You said you watched me? Well understand this…I love Soundwave. I hope that you guys accept this, because I don't want to give him up."

Silence reigned as the two bots stared at each other, both fierce and stubborn.

Rumble was the first to break it, grinning and saying, "Yeah Blaster. Ya pass the test. If you and Dad ever get together, you get our approval." The condor twins chirped in affirmation, Ravage purred, Ratbat nodded, and Frenzy grinned as well.

Blaster stood again, shaking his helm. "You seriously had to do this Mexican stand-off thing?"

"Yep," replied the mini-mech.

Flopping back down on the couch, the boom box couldn't help but smile. If Soundwave creations thought that he was a good choice, then maybe his prospects were looking better than imagined.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah…..not as long as my usual updates, but I hope you liked it all the same. So please review, and let me know how you thought about this.**

**Don't worry. Next chapter will be action packed! Plot wrench will be thrown in! Be prepared for shocks!**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: **Ooh, here we go! Hope you like the whole chapter. I understand that Cliffjumper will be seen as a little OOC here, but hey, fanon likes to play with things and that doesn't exclude me ;D

**Warnings: **If I told you, I would spoil it.

**Disclaimer:** No, I do not own Transformers.

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><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 24<strong>

* * *

><p>Soundwave was in the rec-room the next day, calmly talking to Hound and Trailbreaker. Both mechs had been accepting of he and the other ex-Con's to the Autobot ranks and so sometimes he would sit with them and listen to them talk about their hobbies, about nature, occasionally asking a question or putting forth a comment.<p>

They didn't mind at all, and for that, he was grateful.

However, today was unusual.

He didn't notice the red minibot until Hound abruptly stopped talking and looked down.

Soundwave's attention was drawn to the minibot, who was standing there with a frown on his face.

"Cliffjumper? What's up?" asked the tracker.

Cliffjumper merely shifted his gaze to Soundwave, who had braced himself just in case if this meeting was going to be hostile. Abruptly, he said, "This isn't a game, is it."

It was not a question, but a statement.

Soundwave tilted his helm to the side, slightly confused. What did the red mini want him to say? He lightly shook his helm.

"You're not putting any of us under mind control? You really were hurt by the Cons in some way?"

The telepath had an inkling of what the smaller mech was looking for. He answered, "No, I am not. It is also impossible to have that many mechs under control from solely me. And yes. I was." Silence followed his answer, before the mini spoke again.

"You and Starscream overpowered Shockwave. Now, I know I've hated you all in the past. But that's way too far to be a ruse if…well, this was a ruse. But," and here he mumbled something under his breath that sounded like 'I must be crazy for saying this,' "I think that you're all sincere. So what I'm really saying is…is…welcome to the Autobots, Soundwave."

The rec-room had gone so quiet for a few seconds, and then Gears angrily burst out, "'Jumper, what are you doing you idiot? How can you trust them?"

Cliffjumper swung around, optics flashing angrily, and yelled, "Hey, it's MY decision if I find someone to be trustworthy! And I said it before, damn it, sometimes I'm tired of hating. Soundwave and his cassettes, and the Seekers, have done NOTHING to us the whole time they've been here. They got rid of Shockwave for us! I'm not saying I'm going to be all 'buddy-buddy' with them, just saying I'm not gonna hurt them or mistrust them until they give me a reason to." That shut Gears up, Huffer next to him looking just as sullen and scowling. Cliffjumper nodded in satisfaction, before asking the rec-room, "Anyone else have a problem with stuff that I do? Step forward and I'll knock your block off."

Some of the mechs smirked at the minibot's tirade, so he turned back to a silent Soundwave.

The blue mech stood and knelt so he and the mini were visor to optic. He gave him a tiny smile and said quietly, "Thank you. It means that I do not have to worry about my creations as much anymore. It does mean something, both to me and the Seekers when they find out about it."

Cliffjumper felt a pang of guilt then. Before, he would have harmed the cassettes without any thought. Now, they were the offspring of an ally. He nodded, and turned back to his table, seeing all of the minis (save for Gears and Huffer) grinning at him and fist-bumping him. He was feeling pretty good.

As for Soundwave, he let amusement flare within him. Trust a minibot to be so dramatic.

He sat back at the table, and Trailbreaker remarked, "Miracles happen every day."

"That they do," he agreed.

* * *

><p>Thundercracker and Skywarp looked at their Trine Leader as he explained to them what he had found out from Ramjet. They were in their quarters, sitting on the berth with their hands linked together as Starscream paced up and down in front of them in his worry. Thundercracker said, "To clarify, Ramjet said he hadn't been sexually assaulted yet, correct?"<p>

"Yes," replied the tricoloured Seeker.

"How much time do you think they have before Megatron goes further?"

"I don't know!" snapped Starscream, frustrated at the fact he would have no clue. "He had Shockwave to sate him before, so that's what I think spared Ramjet so far, but he's gone and their situation is getting worse. It could be even today that Megatron snaps, or it could be as long as a week before he attacks. I just don't know."

"Star," Skywarp whispered, getting up and stroking the edge of a wing, "you're doing all you can at the moment."

"It doesn't feel like enough. I want the war to be _over_."

The blur Seeker joined his trinemate in soothing their leader. "We do too. We've all had a taste of a more peaceful life and we want it just as badly. Don't worry, someday soon."

Starscream sighed, shuttering his optics and basking in the EM fields of his trinemates. They were right. He was doing all he could, and he could only wait to see when it would all end. He brought his hands up, seeking a wing from each trinemate and slowly drawing the glyph for 'protection' on them, repeating the action in a promise. He trusted them. They may have had their difficulties in the past, but since they had defected and become Neutral their trine bonds were stronger than ever. He felt just as secure with them as he felt with Skyfire, Soundwave, and even Optimus Prime.

"Care about you," he mumbled.

"We do too," they replied, doing the same to him and writing glyphs on his wings.

Reluctantly pulling away from their comfort, he sighed again. "I have to get back to the labs. Wheeljack has apparently finished building my design for an energy converter."

"Have fun," winked Skywarp, knowing there was more than an invention in the labs for Starscream.

Starscream scoffed, and Thundercracker snickered, and then he left.

When he reached the labs, he was surprised to find Perceptor and Hoist there as well as Skyfire and Wheeljack too. He stepped in without a word. When it came to science, he preferred to listen and debate others speculations in his own processor before putting his own thoughts and objections forward. The meeting passed relatively quickly, and – thankfully – the device didn't explode when Wheeljack used it to create the energon from sunlight beaming in through a tiny window. Once their discussions had been completed, he found Skyfire looking at him expectantly.

He nodded his helm in a small movement, and turned and headed to their quarters.

Once there, Skyfire rumbled from behind him, "You look worried."

"I am."

"Coneheads?"

"Duh."

There was a small chuckle as the larger mech mused, "You must be less worried than I initially thought if you are using vocabulary like that."

Starscream glared at him, but it never seemed to work on Skyfire. He plopped on his berth, raising his arms above his helm and replied, "I am worried. I truly am Skyfire. But I cannot do anything but wait for a plan to be formulated with all the information utilised."

"True. I do have a concern about it though," Skyfire said.

"What?"

The deep blue optics were serious as he asked, "Are you ready to return to the Nemesis when the time comes? Or, if the battle does not occur there, will you be able to face Megatron without remembering what he has inflicted on you when you have healed so much?"

With a small shriek of outrage, Starscream leapt upright and he said harshly, "I've faced him before after he raped the frag out of me! I was afraid, yes, but now I'm better. I'm not weak and I won't run away if I see that fragger coming." His wings quivered in his anger. Underneath it all, however, he knew that Skyfire was justified in asking him.

The shuttle winced at the words, and he shook his helm. He replied in what he hoped was a placating tone, "I am just concerned. No doubt you will have a great part in any of the future plans that involve bringing down what is left of the Decepticons. I just want to make sure so that you are safe. I know just how strong you are."

Starscream softened slightly, but was still a little upset. He didn't like to be reminded.

When a warm hand gently stroked the underside of his wing, he took it for the apology it was and leaned into the touch. A thought occurred to him and he turned to he was smirking at Skyfire. "You're going to join me. I want to see you smash Megatron's face into the ground as I didn't get to see it the first time."

They both laughed at the mental image, and everything was right between them.

* * *

><p>"-and it was so cool how you and Soundwave did that DJ off and I actually really liked both of yours so I couldn't really decide who should have won, but because you did win I liked the song you sang, it was very cute. Jazz is really a meddler isn't he?"<p>

Blaster laughed from where he was in his alt mode in the young Datsun, not minding the gunner chatting his audials off. "Yes he is Blue."

"But I guess he can't help it sometimes," Bluestreak went on, happily driving his patrol route, "because his personal life is all good and I guess he just wants to share the wonderfulness with everyone else and make everyone else all wonderful. Oh! I forgot to ask, did you hear what the twins did even though Optimus said no pranking for a fortnight after they pranked Cliffjumper and Gears?"

"Which twins?"

"Both sets," replied the young mech. "Turns out that, while two of them were starting on Cliff and Gears, the other two went and switched Tracks' polish out and put olive oil in! He didn't use that polish for a while because he had another one and then when he finally used it he screamed like a little girl! I only heard it because I was in the washracks at the time and I heard him from two stalls over and it was so funny!" He giggled at the mental image, his patrol partner laughing along with him.

"No doubt Blue, no doubt," said Blaster, and if he had been in his mech mode, he would have been grinning.

The Ark was no longer safe from pranks with both sets of twins _and_ Skywarp around!

As Bluestreak continued to talk, the boom box relaxed into the seat. Although it kinda sucked at times to have an alt mode that you couldn't move, it was times like this where you just got to enjoy the ride that made it all good.

"-and Beachcomber was showing me these pretty shells he got when he went to the beach last week and…oh! Look at that! What's he doing out here?"

Blaster instantly became alert. "Who, Blue?"

"It's Punch. Haven't seen him around for a while, so why's he just sitting there on that rock? Oh hang on, he's signalling me to transform."

Bluestreak rolled to a stop before the yellow and blue mech, who was looking at them calmly. He opened a door, allowing Blaster to get out and transform before Bluestreak did. Blaster grinned at the ops mech. "Hey Punch! What's up mech?"

The mysterious spy smirked. "Oh, nothing. Just fulfilling a mission."

Excited and curious as he ever was, Bluestreak asked, "Oooh, really? What mission?"

The other mech continued to smirk in an eerie way, before the sound of transformation filled the air. Yellow panels were replaced by dark blue, the overall look of the frame changed, and the blue optics turned a bright, bloody red. His gun whipped out, pointing at Bluestreak. "This mission."

"What the frag?" shouted Blaster, stepping toward Bluestreak, fully prepared to protect the gunner. "Punch, why do you look like-"

"I'm Counterpunch, the Decepticon!" he growled, optics blazing with deadly intent.

"No way! You're an agent, but c'mon, you're a Bot!"

Bluestreak was frozen, staring at the gun. If only he could reach for his rifle...

Counterpunch said, "I'm tired of trying to be good. It's gotten us nowhere in this fragging war. The Autobots are too soft sparked to _do_ anything, and Lord Megatron has been very good to me. My orders are this. I am to take you back to base," he said, pointing his gun at Blaster, who stilled.

He cleared his intake and said in the most persuasive tone he could muster, "C'mon Punch, you don't wanna do this. Megatron's going down soon, and do you really wanna go down with him?"

Counterpunch merely cocked his gun in reply.

Blaster's optics narrowed. He didn't want to do this, but...gritting his denta, he charged at the mech, intent on knocking the gun out of his opponent's hand.

"Ah, perfect," the Decepticon whispered, something appearing in his hand and flinging it at the charging mech. The device burst open, and a crackling blue net snapped wide over the red mech. Blaster saw it too late, and immediately cursed himself for not waiting for Counterpunch to make the first move. He slowed and made to twist away, but it was too late for him. As the net fell over him, he yelled, "Blue, run!"

He then let out a yelp of surprise as the net made a crackling noise and trapped him. There was a signal and somehow, _somehow_, it triggered his transformation sequence. Against his will, he felt his limbs folding up and found himself as a boom box once more. "Slagger!" he cried out.

"Not leaving you," vowed Bluestreak, whipping out his rifle, aiming and shooting so fast that Counterpunch didn't have time to dodge as it knocked his pulse gun out of his hands. The blue mech growled, dodging the next shot and bowled into the younger mech. Bluestreak tried to get the upper hand – his rifle was useless in hand to hand – blocking and writhing to dodge the blows. He cried out as claws raked down his doorwings, pain warnings flashing blindingly in front of his optics. He bucked, trying to throw Counterpunch off, but only succeeded in making the mech angrier.

"Nighty night little sparkling," he taunted, pulling back his fist and bringing it down hard to the side of the gunners neck, making him choke and then fall silent as it triggered his offline sequence through the amount of sheer pain.

Standing, smirking down at the downed form of the young Praxian, he felt a bloom of satisfaction. That ought to shut his chatter up.

Turning back to the form of the boom box under the net, he chuckled lowly. "Come on Blaster. It won't do to keep Lord Megatron waiting."

Blaster snarled and curses spewed from his mouth. He knew what Megatron was trying to do. He was going to hold him hostage in return for Soundwave or Starscream. Or...and his small form shuddered at the thought...perhaps something much, much worse. He felt a jerk as Counterpunch roughly picked up the net and hoisted it over his back.

This...sucked.

There was only one thing he could do. He quickly sent off his co-ordinates to his cassettes before shutting all communication off. He didn't want them to feel what he was inevitably going to feel.

* * *

><p>Ravage, Ramhorn and Steeljaw were chasing each other around the training room while the twins versed the twins as they felt in their habit to do while the remaining three watched. The good-humoured way they played and sparred was something they aimed to do each day if they could. It was good to connect with others, to laugh and have fun.<p>

The harmony of the moment was shattered as a feeling of hollowness was felt throughout Rewind, Eject, Steeljaw, and Ramhorn's sparks. They stopped in their movements as what happened fully registered and then they began to panic. They cried out and keened as the connection between them and their creator was lost. Ravage, quick thinking as he always was, leapt on Steeljaw to stop him writhing around and hurting himself, urging his siblings to do the same. Laserbeak and Buzzsaw cawed and did the same to Ramhorn, while Ratbat rushed to assist Ravage, and Rumble grabbed onto Rewind and Frenzy did the same to Eject.

"Whoa! Easy," Rumble soothed, hugging the shuddering mini mech close to him.

"Blaster...out for the count," gasped Eject from Frenzy's arms, the shocks from the sudden dampening of the bond winding down.

Ravage put the pieces together and immediately contacted his creator. :_Father, there is a situation. Please bring Optimus and Prowl down to the training room, something has happened to Blaster.:_

There was no verbal reply, but Ravage felt the warm touch of acknowledgement before his creator leapt into action.

Soon enough, the mechs assembled, looking worriedly at the morose looking cassettes pinned by Soundwave's creations. Ratbat was softly chirring into Steeljaw's mane in an attempt to cheer him up.

"What happened?" Optimus demanded, striding over to Ravage.

"Something has happened to Blaster," the feline replied, giving a nudge to his father over the bond.

Prowl frowned, while Soundwave moved to Steeljaw and touched his helm, dimming his visor as he stretched his telepathy out to see what had happened. He viewed the memories of the lion mech playing with his own creations with fondness, before blackness, and a set of co-ordinates flashed in front of his vision. Finding the answer, he stood and asked Prowl, "Who was on patrol on a route that crossed these co-ordinates?"

It took only a second before the tactician's optics widened and he gasped, "Bluestreak and Blaster."

"We must go to those co-ordinates then," Optimus said gravely.

Soundwave nodded, something dark and uncomfortable tightening in his gut. He had a feeling they were not going to like what they were going to find. He beckoned to Ravage, who moved to him and jumped into his usual chest slot as the glass chestplate door opened. He looked to Rumble and asked, "Can you take care of things here?"

The purple twin nodded, holding a silent and quivering Rewind close to him.

* * *

><p>Prowl practically flung himself out of his alt mode as they reached the co-ordinates, rushing to Bluestreak's side. The gunner was still offline, his doorwings shredded, dents and scratches marring his chestplate and arms, and there was a particularly hard blow to his neck. With careful hands, he undented some of the plating around the neck, knowing the vocal components could be damaged if crushed for too long. He stroked over Bluestreak's helm in concern. The gunner meant a lot to he and Jazz.<p>

Ravage was let out of his cassette slot and immediately used his skills to pick up the scents around. There was the young mech off to the side being tended to by the SIC, and then there was Blaster's, and there was the other. The one that had attacked them. His optics flared in recognition. But...he had smelt it within the Autobot base too. Something weird.

There was also the tang of ionisation in the air. Like an electro-net, but modified somehow. Perhaps it was how Blaster had been subdued and carted off? Blaster was not the kind of mech to go down easily, especially with so much to lose.

Curiously, he padded over to Prowl and asked in a low tone, "Does Jazz have any double agents by any chance?"

The icy gaze hardened and he asked, "Why?"

"Because the scent I have found has been in the Autobot base. But I recognise it as the Decepticon Counterpunch. He is the perpetrator here," replied the feline mech calmly as he could. He could feel Soundwave's worry through their creator/creation bond and he didn't wish to add to it.

Prowl sighed, knowing he had no choice but to divulge the information. "Punch is the secret operative who has the ability to switch between Autobot and Decepticon. But this...it seems like he's gone rogue and become a Decepticon in full. I shall tell Jazz. He will not be pleased that his operative has turned against him."

Optimus shook his helm. He knew that Punch had been a risk, but for him to betray them all so utterly... "He will receive justice, and we _will_ retrieve Blaster. Prowl, how long until you can get us a highly successful plan? Utilise Smokescreen, Trailbreaker, Soundwave and Starscream to help you out."

The Praxian thought for a moment and then confirmed, "If I have all those mechs working with me, we should have something put together by tomorrow morning at the latest. The evening is young yet."

"Good," replied Prime.

Deep in his large spark, his ire burned. Now, more than ever, he wanted the war to end. It wasn't fair on the abused Decepticons, and it wasn't fair on his men. He rumbled low, stooping and picking up the slight form of Bluestreak while the others finished up on their findings and discussing what could have happened.

This was merely the beginning. Of an end.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I told you all I was going to ramp up the dramaticness. :D I know! Poor Blue! But I needed someone innocent. **

**Please review and tell me what you thought. **

**But I will reassure that NOTHING sexually related will happen to Blaster. I'm not that evil ;D**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** I'm really pleased with the response from the last chapter! Thank you to all that reviewed and favourite and alerted this story. This chapter is a big challenge for me, especially with the torture scene. I surprised myself at what I wrote. To actually put it down in words, I thought 'what would I _not _want done to me?' and so that's what I did to Blaster.

**WARNINGS:** _**Scenes of graphic torture, violence, swearing, recall of sexual abuse. DEFINITELY not for kids.**_

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Transformers.

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 25<strong>

* * *

><p>When Blaster came to next, he was greeted by the dank, dark walls of his cell in the Decepticon brig, chained with his arms stretching up towards the ceiling, stretching them slightly. Not enough to hurt, but a niggling discomfort.<p>

The only illumination was from the bright energon bars that guarded his cell.

The door opened, and he kept his face as blank as possible as the dark form of Counterpunch sauntered in. His smirk was seen easily, his denta gleaming fiendishly in the dim lighting.

"Awake. Expected."

Blaster said nothing, only glared.

Counterpunch snickered, "Oh, I don't mind much that you won't talk to me. But Lord Megatron will be down here soon. I'm sure you'll talk – and more – for him then."

Dread sent chills down the captured mech's spinal strut, and he tried his best not to show it. He only let a small, rumbling growl escape before falling silent again. He'd have a feeling he'd need to conserve his energy. As much as he knew that a great amount of horror could be before him, Blaster felt his thoughts turn to Soundwave. His friend was most likely anxious about him, fearing he would be attacked. A justified worry, but he didn't want him to worry. What happened…happened. He couldn't stop it as he was, and he had to accept it.

Still, it would be nice if the Autobots came charging in like heroes right now.

Silence reigned between the two mechs, ignoring each other, as the time passed. There was nothing but perhaps the faintest sound of dripping water and the creak of the ship due to the pressure of the sea around it.

Anticipation was a new weapon, the red mech mused. If Megatron had come down immediately after Counterpunch had said, he would have been fully prepared.

Now, his processors were ticking over in preparation for the evil warlord to come, his optics continually flicking to the heavy brig doors. Any second…any second now…

More time passed. The seconds seemed to stretch on into minutes and minutes into hours.

Counterpunch continued to wait, occasionally smirking.

Finally, deep thuds were heard outside, the unmistakeable footsteps of a large mech.

The doors slowly opened, revealing the form of Megatron, looking triumphant. "Ah," he murmured, "look what my loyal Decepticon has done for me. I am rather touched, Counterpunch."

The smaller mech bowed deeply, shuffling forward to meet his lord and pressing his forehelm to his hand. "I aim to please you with my gift, my Lord, as a token of my loyalty in these dark times where you may not know who you may trust."

Blaster recoiled in disgust at the display. Optimus was a Prime and yet he never asked or even thought of asking for these slimy, simpering affairs in which mechs would bow before him. This Lordship Megatron had was so in contrast to what Optimus acted and lived by. As the warlord patted the traitor on the helm, his bloody optics looked to his captive. Blaster couldn't help but shudder when those optics met his. He felt filthy just from looking at them. The deranged and unstable mind there was so clear to see, and he couldn't help but feel slightly sick.

"Welcome Blaster," he rumbled, grinning maliciously as Counterpunch scuttled out of the brig.

"Aw, no balloons? That's no way to treat a guest!"

However, that didn't keep him from having a little fun.

Megatron made a low, gravelly laugh, and replied, "Your insolence will be punished in time, no doubt. I haven't had fresh one-on-one opponents for a while. This will be refreshing."

"What do you want from me? I'm just a comm. officer," asked Blaster, trying on the innocent tone to see how well it would work.

A fist cracked across his face, making him see stars as his helm whipped to the side, pain sensors flaring immediately.

Not well, it would seem.

He tightened his jaw, determined not to make a sound of pain. He was going to prove he was made of sterner stuff than that.

"You are more than just a comm. officer. You are closest to Soundwave, my biggest disappointment. And for that, I can use you to get what I want. I've been told Shockwave has been destroyed in all but spark only. And for that, you will pay for Soundwave and Starscream's actions. Not to mention there will be no doubt about the Autobots true colours which shall be shown when I ransom you for my officers. No doubt they will want you back," taunted Megatron.

'_Sick fragger. Thought this would happen,'_ thought Blaster.

The grey mech began to circle around his chained form, and Blaster hated the waves of chills as he felt the mech's optics on him. He couldn't stop a shudder as an ice cold finger reached out and touched against his side, lightly following the plane of his hip. "So blocky, you and Soundwave are, and yet, your frames still manage to please as well as a Seeker," murmured the warlord in thought, coming to the front of his captive again.

"My spy tells me you are quite close to the traitor. But part of me wonders…how close?"

Blaster stiffened just the tiniest bit more, and that gave Megatron all of the ammunition he needed.

He leaned in close to his audial and whispered, "So it's that sappy, pathetic emotion called _love_ is it? You _love_ him, don't you? Ha. Like you won't be able to think of sinking into that hot, tight valve of his after this."

"Stop it," Blaster hissed angrily. He'd had enough of Soundwave being victimised, and feared that Megatron's deduction of his feelings for the telepath might make it worse for him.

Another blow to him, this time his abdomen. He flinched, wanting to curl up and protect that spot, but with his arms chained above his helm…

Megaton inflicted another two punches on the Autobot for the heck of it. He could not hide his smile. What fun it was to ruin the Autobot's mind with his memories of the lovely defilement and debauchery he had done to his prude of an ex-TIC. With one hand gripping the other mechs neck, he made sure their optics met.

"I'm going to tell you about it. Oh yes, and to make sure of no interruptions…" here he ripped out the key wire in Blaster's vocaliser, "…ah, there we go."

Blaster shook his helm, and let out a silent yelp as the larger mech yanked on his neck, stilling him.

"Where shall I start? How about what I was doing when Soundwave came in…ah…yes, drilling my favourite whore against the floor. Seekers are a fine delicacy I must say. Especially the way they cry and moan and beg for mercy. Soundwave foolishly tried to stop me. I wanted more. And he looked very fine that night. Hush…" Megatron said, slapping the Autobot's face when he twisted, trying to evade his grasp. "He was powerless. His one weakness I exploited. His drones, of course. He would do nothing to hard him, something I always thought was foolish. It is better to have no attachments. Makes you do what is necessary."

'_Yeah, like destroying others lives?'_ Blaster thought sarcastically, his whole being awash with horror. It was one thing to hear Soundwave talk about it and to help him heal from it. It was another thing entirely to hear the rapist himself talk about it with such relish. He felt like scrubbing clean his plating and audials, and he wanted to delete the memory banks to forget he even heard the beginning.

"So tight…so warm…such a good fuck," the warlord continued, feeling a bolt of warmth go to the apex of his legs in remembrance of the sensations he had felt.

The boom box felt tearing the mech apart with his bare hands, and jerked his arms roughly in the chains to see if they would give. No luck.

"I enjoy how much this affects you…you know he whimpered and moaned in the end like a top end whore. Makes me wonder if he missed his calling in life."

Although Blaster couldn't speak, the murderous expression on his face was unmistakable.

With a harsh bark of laughter, Megatron stepped away, reconnecting the wire in his prisoner's vocal component as he exited the cell. He'd be back later for the real fun.

"YOU BASTARD!" Blaster called after him, "YOU SICK, DERANGED, PIT-SPAWNED, CROSS-CIRCUITED GLITCH OF A TYRANT! You aren't worth the scrap you were made with! I hope you rot in hell!"

The warlord stopped, tilting his helm back for a moment and closing his optics. Ah, but what music to his audials.

* * *

><p>Everything was set.<p>

Everything was carefully planned, with 5 back-up plans to account for all contingencies. It had taken most of the evening and time had blurred into the night as he, Prowl, Smokescreen, Trailbreaker, and Starscream worked tirelessly on formulating a plan to both retrieve Blaster and also to finally defeat Megatron.

It was made easier by that virus Ravage had planted in the Nemesis' systems on his mission. It had contributed in producing a plan with a successful percentage rate of 96.4%, with a chance of fatalities at 2.5%.

Still, the knowledge that everything was in place was no solace to Soundwave.

He paced the general area of his and Blaster's quarters. All of the cassettes had decided to sleep on his berth tonight, all of them banding together to comfort one another. It would have been a sight to have joy in if not for the black, gaping hole of Blaster's missing presence.

It took all of Soundwave's strength to hold his anger in.

He had wanted to destroy, and he had felt true rage for the first time in a long time. Possessive in a way he wouldn't have dreamed of. Blaster was his. Not yet in the romantic sense, but they were too deeply connected as friends for him not to be. Blaster believed in him. Made him feel strong. Loved him. And he didn't want that to be subjected to torture.

Sighing, he dropped onto the couch with his helm in his hands. "Oh Blaster…" he whispered to the silent walls. He wanted to get him back.

Soundwave rubbed at his temples. It always calmed him.

He would useless for tomorrow if he didn't get any sleep.

Standing, Soundwave looked at the couch doubtfully. The pull out berth would have been fine for his cassettes, but he would most likely be more uncomfortable there than on the floor. His own berth had no room due to the cuddle pile of cassettes. Almost unconsciously, he drifted down the short hallway and stopped in Blaster's berthroom doorway. A light smile quirked his lips. In pure Blaster style, the berth sheets were not fully made up and various music based posters were hung, along with holo pictures. The room was so quintessentially Blaster that a pang of sadness filled Soundwave.

Blaster should be here, recharging, maybe talking and laughing with him.

Stepping into the room, a subdued calm took over from his sadness. It was like the red mech was here in the room. It always felt like this when he came in and Blaster was here.

Approaching the berth, Soundwave wondered if it would even be appropriate. He had slept here with Blaster before to calm his night terrors, but to audaciously take it for his own…

Running a finger along the line of the berth, he shrugged tiredly. He was sure no one would mind, least of all Blaster. He sat on it before lying back, staring up at the ceiling in thought. The berth was just as comfortable as he had remembered. Unbidden, an image came to mind of he and his…well, perhaps _friend_ wasn't exactly the best word for it if all went well…simply lying here, on this berth, softly exchanging words. And then simply falling into recharge in each other's presence.

A dream, a wish, a hope.

Shifting to pull Blaster's pillow to him, Soundwave was rocked to his core to feel how _at home_ he was. With most of his pain from his assault faded, but not forgotten, normalcy had returned in its place. And with that, less painful feelings. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. He had felt at home here in his own room, but the sense of being _complete_ here, knowing he could be truly happy and that one mech was willing to love him and do whatever he could for him was a truly buoyant feeling.

His rage at Megatron, his sudden longing for the other split-spark mech, his need to live in peace and protect his creations, all solidified into a solid bar of determination.

Soundwave vented softly, an inner strength building and storing itself for tomorrow. He was ready to go and defend the happiness he was chasing.

With that thought in his mind, he finally found it in him to recharge.

* * *

><p>Footsteps echoed in the walkway of the brig, soft, slow. The owner was obviously relishing in his chained form.<p>

Blaster couldn't care less at this point.

As the chilling form of Motormaster appeared, he glared at the large black mech. If this was first course, then mains and dessert was sure to be Megatron. Not resisting the urge to annoy the semi, he taunted with a smirk, "Hey, Motorie, buddy! How's the shit energon and abusive leader life treatin' ya? Good?"

The hulking mech growled, flicking a switch to the side of his cell so that the bars slid away, energy crackling as they did so. "Confident for one who is captured."

"Wow, they must have given you extra circuit chips if you could string that many big words in a sentence," grinned Blaster.

The fist smashing into his face made him regret it slightly. Why did they always have to go for the face?

Motormaster's engine rumbled lowly. "Mighty Lord Megaton has given me the honour of allowing me to have a few breems with you."

'_Joy,'_ the chained mech thought sarcastically, still glaring at his enemy. He tried to will his limbs to be loose. If he was going to be beat up, then he wanted to minimise cable damage. Tense cables if he prepared for a hit could do more damage than good. He would just have to bear the brunt of the pain. He wasn't disappointed when a massive fist smashed into his chestplates. He hissed as he felt the plating give slightly. If punched enough, his chestplates would break and his cassette slots would be damaged.

He cried out as fists pounded into his chest, his sides, his abdomen, and his shoulders.

Little bits of plating and paint enamel were flying everywhere, metal squealing as it impacted on metal. Pops filled the air when the plating dented, crushing components in between. Blaster could only hiss and cry out in his pain, powerless to do anything but vocalise his pain. Sensors were filling his vision with annoying alerts and he shoved them away. Although anything was better than Motormaster's twisted, ugly visage, he needed to see if he could exploit the other mech in any way.

After a few more painful blows, the punches stopped and Motormaster huffed in what he thought was disappointment. "You're not fun," the bigger mech said sullenly. "You don't scream like some others."

With a roguish smile through cracked lipplates, Blaster replied, "Sorry about that. Don't feel like it today."

Motormaster's optics glowed with fury, and it looked like he was going to deliver a powerful double-handed blow when a low, gravelly voice ordered, "Time up. My turn."

The Stunticon smirked at Blaster, whose smile disappeared when he recognised Megatron's voice. Being Motormaster's punching bag he could deal with. Being Megatron's torture toy…not so much.

As the black mech lumbered out of the brig, Megatron stepped forward, smirking in satisfaction. "Art at its best," he murmured, appreciating the sight of his captive dented and scratched even further than yesterday, energon dripping out of a particularly nasty dent on his left shoulder. His faceplate was cracked in places and one optics was flickering. Perfection. With a fingertip, he gathered some of the leaking energon from the wound and brought it up to his nose, inhaling it before lapping it all up, delighting in the look of horror on the red mech's face.

"Soundwave was just as delicious," he murmured with an insane grin as Blaster's anger returned.

"You are a complete and utter fucktard. You make me sick," Blaster spat.

"Human curses, oh how colourful," laughed the warlord, stepping close so that they were pressed too close together, his mouth by Blaster's audial as the chains rattled from his struggles. "You know, it is a pity I couldn't show you pictures of what your _precious_ Soundwave's valve looked like after I finished with him. Dripping _my_ transfluid, coalescing with his energon. Fragged good and hard."

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP YOU DIRTY FILTHY PIECE OF TRASH! SOUNDWAVE IS A HUNDRED TIMES THE MECH YOU WILL EVER BE!"

Megatron snarled and head-butted his captive, rage welling quickly within him. He slashed at the mechs damaged shoulder, widening the torn energon line, a large chunk of plating flying from where his talons tore it from. He relished in the other mechs hiss and groan of pain. He eyed the energon dripping profusely from the injury, but decided against it. He would have more fun first.

He dug his claws into other wounds, widening them, twisting painfully, snickering in delight as Blaster yelped, trying to twist out of his grasp. "They're not coming for you, little Autobot," he taunted. Ooh, this mech was a fighter. He was going to have fun ruining this mech like he did Soundwave and Starscream. A lot of fun. But first…he reached into his subspace, pulling out a small saw.

Blaster saw it and his optics widened. "Don't…"

"Oh hush. I'm not going to kill you yet."

Megatron turned it on, kneeling, and made small, careful cuts along the leg plating, drawing quick, agonised cries from his captive, working his way up. He was careful to only hit minor energon lines. After all, it wouldn't do for him to call Hook down here to save his captives life. He passed over the hips plating, now cutting into abdominal plating and delighting in the louder cries.

"Ahh! Sick…f-f-ragger!" yelled Blaster, vocaliser static filled towards the end in his pain.

"Mmm-hmm."

Seeing the little energon dribbles leaking from most of the cuts, Megatron felt immense satisfaction. Now, to make his prisoner really scream…

He pulled a syringe-like tool out of subspace. It was filled with hot, molten metal. Before his victim could recover, he plunged it deep into the side gap between Blaster's hip and leg, and pushed the plunger down. Immediately, Blaster let out a long agonised scream as the hot metal melted some of his leg components, locking it in place as the molten metal hardened.

"Even if you did escape, you wouldn't get very far," chuckled Megatron over the Autobot's scream as he raked his claws over the bleeding cuts on his abdomen.

Blaster emitted a strangled groan, unable to think because of the sheer amount of pain. He staved off the forced offlining. His sensors were urging him to offline so he could be fixed, but he didn't want to think of what would happen to him if he was unconscious. Literally ripped apart, reprogrammed, or raped…his whole body shuddered in revulsion.

"Now, what shall I do-"

The warlord was abruptly cut off when the floor quaked. He was thrown to the floor, crimson optics flashing in fury. "Who dares-"

He was cut off again as it felt like the walls themselves were moving. Blaster, injured and dazed as he was, heard the louder creak of the ship and realised why they were moving. _The whole Decepticon ship was moving!_

"Whoa," he muttered as he swayed to the side, the chains pulling on his ragged wrists.

Megatron was growling like a caged, feral animal, annoyed at the lack of comms when Counterpunch burst through the doors to the brig.

"My mighty Lord! The ships controls are going haywire! It's manoeuvring us towards the surface! Hook and Ramjet don't know what to do and the whole computer system has shut them out!" the small blue Con yelled, obviously frantic and fearful of the wrath Megatron could bring.

"Stay here you bumbling fool while _I_ go and fix the mess that you all have undoubtedly made," snarled the grey mech, stomping out and slamming the brig door behind him, highly displeased from being kept from his prize.

Counterpunch, relieved at being out of the firing line, sat down on the guards chair, taking no notice of the glaring Blaster.

Blaster hated the mech in front of him. Not only did he kidnap him, but he was a traitor. _Real_ traitors were meant to be punished. If they ever captured Counterpunch, he wanted either he or Jazz to do it. He wanted vengeance. Of course, he wanted Megatron to be punished (and preferably dead), but it was Soundwave's and Starscream's to take if they wished. Not his.

Counterpunch however…

As the ship lurched again, the boom box couldn't help but wonder how close they were to breaking the surface. Whoever mucked up the engine and steering controls was doing him a big favour. Steadily leaking energon from the various cuts in addition to other injuries, his self-repair was working so hard it was making him heat up, and the energon loss was making him weaker.

"I'm too stressed to think about torturing you. Besides Megatron will have my helm if I do. So recharge you idiot," Counterpunch said.

Blaster let out a weak laugh. "Like I'm gonna believe you?"

The other mech shrugged. "Suit yourself. You'll just be worse when my mighty and powerful Lord gets back once this problem is fixed."

Blaster weighed it up in his processor before submitting to the overwhelming desire to recharge. He would me more useless and unable to think if he didn't.

* * *

><p>Soundwave stood proudly beside his creation, having to place his mask over his face to hide his grin.<p>

Ravage had mentioned planting a virus on that mission to the Decepticon base.

What he hadn't revealed was the exact nature of that virus. It wasn't until the 'Grand Plan' had been organised that the telepath had discovered that Ravage had created a unique virus in revenge for Soundwave's assault. So complex and yet so simple it was that it allowed Ravage to take complete control over the Nemesis' systems.

Complete. Control.

Ravage looked very much like a cat who got into the cream as he fiddled with the joystick from the large remote that was his control point for the Nemesis. Any moment now, the Nemesis would break through the water and he would hover it over to the beach. And in having complete control over the Decepticon warship, it meant the mechs within it could not use the outer weapons and defences. If he had wanted to, he could have locked down all the doors in the ship, but that would have hindered the process of getting to Blaster.

A few of the Autobots were with him, but the rest were in their positions. They were going to come from all directions.

"Ravage," Soundwave murmured, "well done." He sent pulses of immense gratitude and pride through their creator/creation link.

"Does this mean I get a long belly scratch later?" the feline asked teasingly, optics intense on the water.

"And a waxing," agreed the blue mech, visor glinting in the sun. The urge to find Blaster was so strong. The red mech had been his protector for a while now. It was his turn to return the favour. He held his breath, his tanks rumbling anxiously as the tip of the purple tower pierced the ocean. As it rose out of the sea, Soundwave couldn't believe how ugly the ship looked. Seaweed was strewn everywhere, and many portions of the purple plating was dark with rust.

"It's a wonder it didn't collapse," remarked a serene voice beside him.

Prowl and Jazz stood together. Prowl was to be Ravage's protection, as Ravage was to continue to make sure the Nemesis' defences could not be used against the Autobots. Jazz was going to go in and try and get the Coneheads out so they could fight with the Autobots.

"It's amazing what happens when the two mechs responsible for the ship's upkeep left in the face of true tyranny," Soundwave quipped back.

The saboteur snickered, while the tactician only wore a grim, determined smile. He turned to his friend, asking the telepath, "Are you sure you are ready? We don't know what we will find."

"Blaster was my saviour in my time of desperate need. I can only attempt to be the same to him," Soundwave replied.

The Praxian's doorwings flared and he said, "I know you will be."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: *peeks out from hole* Erm…anyone still reading after that graphic torture scene? *ducks***

**But I would love your reviews! I bet you didn't see that coming ;D And aren't you all glad I didn't have Megsy rape Blaster? **

**I also enjoyed writing the scene where Soundwave goes and sleeps in Soundwave's berth. **

**And guess what? I'm gonna get more than 400 reviews! YAY! *hugs you all***


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: **….WOW! Look at all those lovely reviews you guys did for me! Thank you all for keeping me going! I know this is a late update, but life around the festive season has been very busy and has been killing my muse off at every turn. But finally, here it is, and just before the New Year too. Also, I'm using a suggestion from CodeRed in here. They always do such amazing reviews. Hugs to you!

**Warnings: Heavy violence and more torture, character death, a bit gory.**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the franchise of Transformers in any way, shape, or form, save for my dvds and figurines.

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 26<strong>

* * *

><p>::Counterpunch.::<p>

::Yes, my mighty Lord Megatron?::

::I have changed my mind. You may inflict whatever damage you like onto our prisoner, but not beyond repair. Once we have defeated the fools, I will have my sport with him.::

There was a long, rumbling, grating noise as the ship suddenly ploughed through the dirt of land, keeping it upright. Whoever was at the controls did not know how to make a good landing, it appeared, and so it took a few more seconds before the little blue 'Con replied to his leader.

::Affirmative.::

As the link closed, the ex-Autobot glared at the still, half-recharging from of Blaster hanging in chains before him, his frame a work of art. If art was energon dripping from cuts and dents and other injuries. Counterpunch stood, surveying the red and yellow body, wondering what would wring out the loudest screams and therefore give him the most pleasant satisfaction. He was only dimly aware that they were above ground, and that the rest of the Decepticons were panicking – why all their weapons systems were locked, and the Autobots were closing in. No, nothing like that reached here in the brig. The brig was all about prisoners and their horrible fate.

Sensing the red optics on him, Blaster cycled up to full awareness, glaring at the traitor. He hissed, pulling at his binds.

"Turns out Megatron has given me free reign over you."

Blaster snarled, "What do you mean, fragger?"

A hard fist suddenly cracked into his injured abdomen, and he made a strangled, low cry of pain. He felt something within crack, and he hoped it wasn't his energon processing tank. Then his source of energy would gush out and he would have nothing to power his frame or processor or spark. He barely had a few seconds to breathe before a fist crashed down on his knee, repeatedly, against the bend of the joint. As helpless as he was, he knew with sickening accuracy what was going to happen and dampened as many sensors as he could.

The last hard punch in a long series finally cracked through Blaster's right knee, snapping it in an awkward direction.

The larger mech didn't give the satisfaction to the smaller mech, not screaming, but growling out his pain with anger filled optics.

"Hmm, not to your liking? Perhaps…" Counterpunch trailed off, getting a set of double plating out of subspace, which fit neatly over his knuckles. He smirked as he saw the elbow joints, looking so strong. He reached up, dodging the teeth that attempted to bite him, and rubbed over the joints, testing the tension in them. His smirk widened as he saw the physics of it. Once broken, those joints would cause more pain as Blaster was using them to stand upright more than his legs in the position he was in.

"Why? S-so senseless," the boom box choked out through the pain he was in.

Counterpunch began to uppercut the elbow joints with gusto, relishing in the little grunts of pain he pulled from the mech. He gave no answer, only focus on the joints he wished so much to break.

Blaster clenched his hands, hoping this would be over soon. His comms were disabled, he couldn't hear any of his comrades, and he kept his spark shut to his creations to spare them. But he could hear as a battle began.

"Rah…stubborn joints," huffed the blue mech, slowly slightly in his speed, but not in the force of his punches.

"Nnngh," groaned Blaster, knowing that his joints would break soon. Too many hits. Too many warnings flashing in front of his optics.

When the joints finally snapped, Blaster let out a howl of pain, all his weight bearing on the damaged joints, tearing energon lines, wires, and other cables, not to mention the support struts breaking clean away.

Counterpunch grinned in a menacing satisfaction. "My task is complete," he whispered and left, saving the clip of his captive's scream for later, when he could savour it much more. He had a battle to join.

Blaster moaned in his mind boggling pain as it twinged all over his body, while white hot lines of agony spread from his broken leg and arms to his data centre. His self repair was exhausted, his systems running too hot. Knowing he wouldn't last too long awake, he shut down into recharge, hoping that when he woke again, it would be to the bright orange ceiling of the Autobot medbay.

* * *

><p>Megatron growled as he strode out of the command centre, broadcasting a comm. to all soldiers. They were to meet him at the entrance and he was to lead them into battle, and if luck would have it, this would be for the last time. He wanted Prime's spark in his hands, he wanted dominion, he wanted his traitors so he could show them the error of leaving him.<p>

He reached the main doors, creaking loudly from disuse. They hadn't needed this entrance into the ship ever since they had relocated to the sea.

The warlord snarled when he saw the Prime and his Autobots, fury shining in their optics and all too battle ready. "Finally!" he called out, "a real challenge from you, Prime?"

"No. I've always challenged you. This is the day that you are _finally_ finished!"

The Autobots, arranged around the grounded ship as they were, roared in acknowledgement and encouragement.

Megatron sneered. "I suggest you leave before you come to inevitable defeat."

There was a pause before snickers echoed from some of the Autobots. The grey mech just growled, raising his fusion cannon and releasing the first blast. For him, this was an obstacle. An annoying obstacle that needed to be taken down as soon as possible. He flicked a glance around the location, finding no sign of Soundwave, his ex-Command Trine, or the annoying little brats. It played on his processor for a moment before he bellowed, "Decepticons…ATTACK!"

As the metal beings from each faction launched towards each other, Jazz, Soundwave, and Starscream cracked open a weak piece of plating from the roof of the _Nemesis_ and slipped in. Jazz was the last in, watching as the attack began. Perfect. The distraction had worked.

They wandered the empty hallways down towards the command centre, knowing that the only mechs that would be there were the Coneheads. Starscream and Soundwave were silent, the memories of what had happened in the floor below them creeping up, trying to take over their psyche, but determinedly tramped down by each mech. Soundwave did a quick telepathic search, confirming the three Seekers through the doors before them. With that confirmed, he took another one, frowning when he detected two other mechs.

One, with a terrible clarity, he knew was Blaster.

The other, Counterpunch.

He stiffened slightly, and turned to the TIC. "Jazz. Counterpunch is leaving the brig. Course of action?"

A dark, menacing look that promised punishment crossed over the black and white's face before he nodded sharply. "He's mine. Get the Coneheads, get Blaster, and get the hell out of here." He left, leaving the two ex-Con's in front of the command doors.

Soundwave nodded at the tricoloured Seeker, who smirked in reply, crimson optics flashing. He fanned out his wings and opened the doors, three pairs of optics turning his way. As one, the three Seekers faced and saluted him. "Commander."

"Ease," he replied, before his tone took a note of concern. "Are you all unharmed?"

Ramjet turned his helm to show the impression of a large fist on the side of his cockpit. "Compliments of the slag-maker for not 'doing my job right' and 'losing control of the ship'."

Starscream and Soundwave felt hot anger bubble within them, but fought the urge. Starscream quickly checked each mech over visually, before sighing in relief. "You understand that you are all Neutrals now, fighting in your best wishes once you turn against Megatron? There is no going back."

Ramjet took the hands of his bondmates, staring back unflinchingly at his Air Commander. Starscream smirked then, saying, "Good. Now, we are going to stop by and pick up a comrade, and then escape and finish the battle. Hopefully, we'll have that peace we've been striving for."

"It would be nice to be properly fuelled," murmured Dirge.

"It is a wonderful feeling, I assure you," replied the tricolour flyer, turning and seeing Soundwave's visor flicker. "Soundwave?"

"Unexpected event: Combaticons. Able to fight. If Starscream rouses: Will fight with us. Allegiance: No longer to Megatron," explained the blue mech.

Starscream paused and considered this, knowing it could be dangerous to bring them out of stasis if Hook placed them there to conserve energy. He knew he only had one ration of normal energon and one ration of emergency energon, which powered to an initial higher percentage but burned quicker. He considered the Coneheads. "We need about 7 cubes of energon, more if you can. We will all split. Soundwave, go and retrieve Blaster and go to Ratchet's rendezvous. I will awaken the Combaticons. The Coneheads will retrieve the energon to fuel them enough to form Bruticus if possible. Then, the tide will turn in our favour, I believe."

Soundwave nodded, and the other Seekers saluted, all going off into their separate paths and separate tasks.

Starscream reached the medbay in no time, stepping in. He had to pause in the doorway, recalling the amount of times Megatron had dragged him here after one of their 'sessions.' How Hook had kept quiet and performed his job to meticulous perfection. No compassion. It looked exactly the same as the last time he had seen it.

Exhaling, the jet steeled himself. The progress he had made with Skyfire led up to this. If he couldn't do such a simple thing, that he would never be able to face Megatron again. And if he couldn't stand up to him…he may feel broken and used forever.

His thrusters heels clicked softly on the floor as he walked into a small room off the medbay. He saw the sparks in stasis as soon as he entered, and his spark gave a pang. He had created those beings from the ruins. They respected him to a degree. He had ordered them not to show favouritism toward him lest Megatron harm them as well. Pulling his processor to the task at hand, Starscream went to the control panel, hand hesitating for a seconds before hitting the switch to bring the gestalt back into consciousness.

Starscream did not have to wait long.

The sparks left the viewable stasis tank, a series of careful medical machinery returning them to the spark chambers in the frames they rightly belonged in.

He could hear as systems whirred and booted up, each mech fighting their way to consciousness.

The Conehead Trine entered with a large stack of energon cubes when Onslaught was the first mech to open his optics, sit up and look at the still Seeker.

"Well, it's good to see that nothing is keeping you down Screamer," chuckled the hulking mech, truly glad (through his rage at Megatron) to be online with his gestalt and to see Starscream again.

* * *

><p>Anger was not the word for it.<p>

Fury either.

Pissed off might cover it. Yeah, Jazz mused, P.O.'d was definitely what he was feeling.

Jazz slithered through the ducts in the Nemesis, having done it so many times before. He knew this ship as well as any Decepticon. He was following his prey, anticipation mounting in a dark place of himself. A place he only trusted with Prowl, who knew how well to tame it.

Counterpunch walked, unhurried, through the hallways towards the entrance. The only reason why he had made it this far alive was because Jazz let him. He wanted the execution of the traitor to be a little more…public.

They were not too far from the doors now. Jazz moved quickly, getting to a vent in front of the blue mech, who was now preparing his gun for battle.

Too. Easy.

The saboteur exploded from the vent, optic band a hard violet with fury as he stared at the traitor. He had trusted Punch. Thought he had a good hold of the dual identity.

Evidently not.

The other mech started, before some colour drained away. "Ah…fancy seeing you here."

"No banter. Ah'm _not_ in the mood."

Jazz's voice was thunderous, and he leaped at his foe, intent on ripping him apart. Counterpunch growled and attempted to move out of the way, tried to save himself, but the black and white was at the top of his game. His claws shot out, embedding into blue armour, taking him down. In one swift, strong move, he had Counterpunch pinned and motor relays disabled.

Now he could have his fun.

The blue mech was frozen in horror as he realised his doom. He had not expected Jazz to find him so quickly.

"How dare ya. How dare ya do what ya did, after all that Ah did for ya, after all that the Autobots did for ya! Ya're getting no mercy from me. Ya don't derserve it."

Counterpunch's scream echoed out toward the battle field as frenzied claws slashed across his face, decimating his features, before they moved onto his neck. He was dimly aware in his fading consciousness that his main energon line in his neck had been severed, the pink life blood flooding the area.

Pain was as sharp as Jazz's claws in his murderous rage, slashing through him.

The last thing Counterpunch was aware of as his life ended, was the triumphant cry of the mech over him as his spark was ripped unrepentantly from his chest.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, most of the battle was going on well, in most Autobot's opinion. Megatron's poor management of his rationing and army led to starved enemies who were not as quick with their reflexes, and at times hesitated in what they were going to do next. In this case, the Autobots actually outnumbered the Decepticons, but most of them weren't going down without a fight, the stubborn fraggers.<p>

They had to put up a fight, lest Megatron win, notice they had dipped in their performance and punished them for it.

To the warlord's frustration, both his operative gestalts were unable to perform due to the Autobots tactically separating each individual component across the battle area.

To add to this, he and Prime kept clashing like the titans they were, and yet, it seemed like the Autobot commander was…playing with him. There was the usual effort and strength in his opponent's fighting style. But there was no squinted optics, not as much tenseness in the joints.

Why was Prime relaxed?

It irked him, just as much as it irked him that his own _slaggin' warship_ had decided to mutiny on him, with some Decepticons whining about how the gun turrets wouldn't fire and other weapons wouldn't deploy. He was sure he and his soldiers would have gotten the upper hand if they could have.

Growling, he continued to fight, a dark need within him to finish off his prisoner.

Elsewhere, Gears found himself on his own against Dead End and Drag Strip. He _had_ been with Brawn, but the other minibot had gone off to chase after Astrotrain with the Twins. Now he was battling two on one, one of the rare sights in the battle. He could see his comrades trying to get to him, but blocked by other enemies.

"Give up! Megatron's going down!" he snarked at them.

His concentration lost in that moment of speech caused his gun to be knocked out of his hand by a wall of garish yellow plating, and Drag Strip pinned him.

"Nah. You are," the race car grinned.

Gears struggled to get free, the larger frame pinning him, when two new voices piped in.

"Actually D.S…_you're _goin' down."

Gears saw the light of day once more as Drag Strip was attacked by two…someone's. Sitting up, the minibot gaped to see that Rumble and Frenzy had come to his aid. The very mechs he had been prejudiced against had just come to his aid. He got up, still in a state of shock, and went to help them in pummelling Drag Strip and Dead End.

Maybe…they wouldn't kill them all in their berths after all.

* * *

><p>Soundwave hurried down the brig, anxious to get Blaster out and to safety. Who knows <em>what<em> Megatron did to him. He was almost afraid to find out. He had no wish to use his telepathy. He had no desire to invade his friend's mind. Not when he needed that telepathic strength for later.

He opened the door, breath catching at the flash of red plating he glimpsed.

There could be traps, and he knew as much as he wished to perform the rescue, he had to err on the side of caution. He scanned the area, relieved when his scanners picked up nothing.

Edging forward, Soundwave felt his optics rivet onto the still form, hanging in chains in an un-barred cell.

Counterpunch had been careless.

He retracted his mask with a gasp as he saw the condition that the red mech was in, and he stumbled forward into the cell, mouth open in shock at the amount of damage inflicted on the once pristine frame. He forced rationality to interject for a moment, glancing down, hands tentatively touching the upper thighs. Had Megatron…?

Soundwave sighed in relief as he detected no lubricants or energon or any damage to the interface panel. It lifted such a great weight off his shoulders. He didn't know how they would have coped if Blaster had been sexually assaulted like he had been.

"Blaster," he called softly, wondering if it would rouse the mech.

No response.

Shaking his helm in sorrow, he mentally documented the extensive damage. Multiple fractures to the faceplates, a cracked optic, his wristplating rubbed down to the wire and elbow joints broken, support struts and cables hanging free. The torso had been thoroughly beaten, one leg had also been broken at the kneejoint, the other looked to be the victim of a 'melted metal' combo, a Megatron specialty. And all over there were cuts, dents, and scrapes, energon flowing from the cuts and from other badly damaged places.

Soundwave carefully caressed the damaged face. "Poor Blaster," he murmured, before reaching up and using a tool to unpick the handcuffs and other binds. The damaged arms fell immediately and his frame fell forward into Soundwave's waiting arms.

The telepath exhaled when feeling his friend fall into his arms. It meant he was halfway to getting them out of there.

He adjusted his hold so the injured mech was held bridal style, close to him. The movement, unfortunately, jostled some of Blaster's broken limbs, and the sensors transmitted the unpleasant data to Blaster's processor, and it snapped him awake. Blearily, he looked around, disoriented at the fact he was being held in someone's arms. Red, white and blue appeared in his vision, and he smiled the best he could through damaged faceplates.

"Wave," he croaked.

"Hush. Save your strength," cautioned the blue mech, worried that this energy expenditure Blaster was doing could severely harm his chances of survival and a smooth recovery.

Blaster shook his helm stubbornly. Even in his addled state, he knew he had to tell the other mech something. It was really important. Because the mech was really important.

"Please, go back into recharge," pleaded Soundwave, rocking Blaster from side to side to see if that would lull him.

Blaster was determined, and with the last of his strength before he was required to recharge, he murmured, "Soundwave….love…'Wave…love…you."

Too injured to continue, Blaster slipped back into the comfort of recharge as Soundwave stiffened in disbelief. Blaster had just physically said that he loved him. It was not strong, not impassioned like he imagined it would be. But soft, vulnerable. And that in itself meant so much to Soundwave, that Blaster would say it to him even while he was injured. The words warmed his spark, bolstered him, made him even more determined than he was before.

Slowly walking forward, he brushed his lips over the red forehelm tenderly, revelling in how he felt, how _right_ it was to kiss him.

He was clever to think to store his telepathic powers. For Megatron was going to have it attacking him, ravaging his mind.

As soon as Blaster was safe, of course.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This was going to be longer than what it was, but when I looked at it, it didn't flow right. So the next and final part of the battle will be in the next chapter. I hope it meets everyone's expectations.**

**Please review! I would like to know what you think. I will try to update, but I have a lot of work in the coming weeks.  
><strong>


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: WHOO-HOO! **I'm so pleased with my reader's responses in the last chapter! I'm so glad you found it exciting and engaging. Another HUMUNGOUS thank you to all of my reviewers, favouriters, and alerters. Here is the next part of the battle. I hope it satisfies you all with what I have planned.

**Warnings:** **Violence, swearing, and character death.**

**Disclaimer: No, Transformers is not mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Turning Point – Chapter 27<strong>

* * *

><p>Ratchet was waiting for him, in a little grove of tall trees that hid their robotic forms well.<p>

When the medic turned, his expression immediately morphed to a raging ferocity once he spotted the tortured, unconscious mech in Soundwave's arms.

"The slaggers. If I didn't have to tend to Blaster, I'd be out there trying to kill Megatron," Ratchet hissed, taking Blaster's prone form from the telepath's arms.

Soundwave had no doubt that Ratchet would. The medic was stubborn and strong enough to do it in a rage. He knew that he was having trouble controlling his own vehemence at the present moment. The fire of justice roared within him, and he vowed to end this once and for all. There was no more need for suffering. Kneeling down to Ratchet's level as the medic began to seal off vital energon lines, he murmured, "I'll make sure we get him then."

Hard blue optics softened for a moment as he looked at them. "Then go. I'll make sure he lives to see a world of peace."

Nodding solemnly, Soundwave turned and ran back to the battlefield.

Blaster's confession of love echoed within his mind as he did, continuing to feed his determination.

* * *

><p>Megatron shoved his enemy back, face contorted in malice.<p>

Prime was being incredibly difficult to harm today. It made him furious.

And ever so slightly anxious.

The Autobot leader had never fought like this before. There was a new grace to his movements, more force in his blows, and a seemingly increased precognition in guessing what the next attack was going to be. Megatron didn't like it.

_Nothing_ was going in his favour.

Half of the Stunticons were now subdued, held in cuffs by the side of the battlefield, Devastator had been unable to form, he had no Combaticons and his blasted trine was nowhere to be found! It was pitiful to see Autobot after Autobot cutting the drones released from the Nemesis down. It galled him that those little drones of Soundwave's managed to stay out of his visual reach, although he knew they were there.

Starscream, or rather, the lack of his appearance, also irritated him.

As a precaution, Megatron had gotten Hook to reinforce his helmet plating to make sure Starscream's scream weapon wouldn't leave him debilitated.

Still, it was unnerving to have him absent. The warlord had expected him to extract revenge by now.

There was the sound of pained cries dotted throughout the battlefield at irregular intervals as mechs got injured by weapons or got battered by their enemies. Megatron sighed, relishing in it.

As he and Prime turned to grapple once more, there was a clank that drew his attention to the entrance of the Nemesis. A fiendish looking Jazz threw a greyed, decapitated frame down at his pedes. It took only a moment for Megatron to notice who it was. His valued double agent, Counterpunch.

A triumphant, fierce voice said lowly, "Never, ever, betray me. It's a warnin' to ya all, or ya might end up like our traitor Punch here."

The Autobots took a moment to look before going back to their own battles.

Megatron felt more anger bubble up inside him.

Counterpunch had known the risk and had willingly agreed to become a Decepticon in full if he was handsomely rewarded. All the best energon and a large stock of credits, plus whatever Autobot as his slave when the Autobots were defeated had managed to sway the blue mech. Of course, it slipped both their processors as to the true, dark nature that Jazz could bring to the forefront if he so chose to.

His attention was once more caught by something other than battle, Megatron's frown turned into a smirk at the group of mechs coming out from behind Jazz. "Count the seconds until your death Autobot! My trine and the Combaticons are right behind you!"

The black and white mech only laughed, leaping down into the fray while Ramjet stepped forward and called out, "We no longer take your commands Megatron!"

The titanic grey mech stilled, wondering if he heard those words right.

The Coneheads took off, jetting to the skies to help a giggling Skywarp and a fearsome Thundercracker wrangle the triple changers who were trying (and failing) to successfully attack.

"RRAAAHHH!" bellowed Megatron, livid as he glared at the sky.

"That goes for us as well. You threw us aside like trash. You didn't even treat us like soldiers," commented Onslaught, speaking for the whole gestalt.

As the tyrant heard those words, realisation began to dawn, and the urge to _kill_ something in his frustration climbed to his pinnacle. With a roar, he powered his cannon and discharged it at the traitorous gestalt, only for someone to push them down and cover the five of them with a broad expanse of sleek, white wings. The shot sailed harmlessly over their helms.

Gaping in astonishment, Megatron watched as the proud optics of Starscream met his own, slightly afraid, but filled with a righteous spite and defiance.

Unable to resist, the grey mech smirked upon seeing that pretty body. He had almost forgot how good the Seeker looked. He looked even better when being filled.

"Protecting the weak, Starscream? Unlikely for a coward," he taunted, taking a few steps closer.

The flier narrowed his optics, retorting, "I'm no coward."

A backhand to his helm distracted the large mech from his destination, and he turned around and glared at Prime. Optimus growled, "Stand down. We have you outnumbered."

"Never," hissed Megatron.

Optimus's demeanour chilled towards his opponent, and to test the strength of the Decepticon troops conviction in both their leader and their cause, he called out loudly over the battlefield, "Any Decepticon that stands down now in the name of justice will be spared a lifetime in the brig. Cease your fire and you will be permitted to live freely and peacefully."

The fights paused, and the exhausted Decepticons listened to the Prime's call.

There was a few moments of complete silence before there was a clank as Hook dropped his gun, lowering his helm in admission of his stand down.

The rest of the Constructicons followed suit soon after, having conferred over the gestalt bonds and reaching agreement. They threw down their weapons, lowing their helms and raising their arms. Scrapper spoke for them all when he said, "Survival is what you offer us Prime, and so we accept. With Megatron lies only a slow road to deactivation and despair."

"Fools! You ingrates! How dare you submit to Prime's lies?" roared Megatron.

Astrotrain was next, hovering to the ground and following suit.

One by one, each and every Decepticon there placed their weapons down and acknowledged Optimus's call. The Stunticons, Reflector, Blitzwing, and all the other grunts involved in the Earth portion of the Con army. Megatron could only watch in astonished fury as he was left the only mech standing with his weapons ready for battle. His crimson optics travelled around, seeing the submission in each of his soldiers postures.

"COWARDS! YOU WILL ALL ROT IN PIT FOR YOUR BETRAYAL! You blindly trust the one who offers you sanctuary and promises of fuel. Did you forget how us, the lower classes, were used and abused by the higher classes?" the warlord called out.

"You have become what you were trying to rebel against, Megatron," said Optimus levelly. "Times have changed. I am the highest authority on Cybertron now, and yet not once have I desired to bring back the set caste systems, make anyone else a slave, or deprive a mech of his fuel. Nor have I gifted one mech with more energon than another based solely on how well I liked them or how many credits they had." He paused to let his wise words sink in, and then continued. "Surrender. We have a chance for peace. Four ex-Decepticons have managed to live in harmony with us for some time now, which has proved there is no need for any more animosity."

"Ha! The only reason those pathetic traitors fled to you is because I fucked them like the whores they were."

Soundwave, having just reached the battlefield at that moment, stopped in cold shock near Starscream. The Seeker, wings held wide in front of the Combaticons, began to tremble as optics turned to them both.

Flashes of understanding, pity, empathy, horror, and anger played about the expressions of Autobot and Decepticon alike, while Megatron's cruel sneer told all that he had no regard for the public fallout for himself.

Starscream suddenly screamed shrilly, "You BASTARD!"

With a whir of jet turbines, the tricoloured mech shot at the deluded, insane tyrant, fist outstretched and mouth open in a deafening scream.

Megatron was knocked to the ground, but much to Starscream's surprise, he didn't look like his processor had been affected by his scream at all.

"You thought I wouldn't take precautions once I knew what happened to Shockwave?" growled Megatron, rising and fixing the hovering flier with a murderous, yet lusty, glare. He tapped his helmet to illustrate his point.

Mechs stepped back, forming a ring around the two combatants, as Starscream sneered back at his enemy, "Regardless of any precautions you may have made, you will die by the end of today."

The grey mech only laughed.

This was his first mistake.

His evil laughter was abruptly stopped when something bitter and chilling took a hold of his consciousness. It felt like wires were alive in his mind, slithering through and tapping into his weaknesses. Involuntarily, he turned himself around, attempting to resist the hold on his mind. As he turned, he met the hard scarlet line of Soundwave's visor, glowing fiercely and brightly in rage.

"How dare you," snarled Soundwave, having found within that sickened mind just _how_ Blaster had gained injuries and what the grey mech had been planning next. It was enough to purge his tanks but he ignored it for the time being, making sure his mental claws gripped the twisted consciousness tight in its grasp.

Frame shaking with anger, with the slightest shame apparent as well, Soundwave growled, "You couldn't leave it alone? You could have let us rest in peace with our secret, and yet you must air it out like bad energon so everyone knows. Look around Megatron. _None_ think you mighty for this."

"If I'm alone and going down, I might as well bring something down with me," Megaton retorted with a sickening smirk.

Starscream took the opportunity to belt the larger mech across the helm. "You know what is truly pathetic Megatron? That for all your _supposed _strength and mightiness, you were so incredibly stupid to turn those that could do the most damage towards you, against you."

The spectators watched as Megatron attempted to growl, to turn and reciprocate with a strike to the flier, and yet he couldn't, immobilised as he was by Soundwave's telepathic prowess.

A surge of malice came over the Seeker, and while his enemy was unable to move, he rained down blows upon the thick armour, relishing in each dent. It was slightly hollow, but also freeing, as he finally managed to harm the one who had broken him up so completely for so long. It was only when he saw energon on his hands from a few broken energon lines in the less protected sides of the warmonger that Starscream stopped, panting slightly. He nodded to Soundwave with a slight smirk.

"Your turn."

"Hm," Soundwave acknowledged. He gathered up his mental reserves, knowing if he truly had to make Megatron feel this, he would have to push through the barriers of black, diseased, horrifying thoughts. That is the memories of his own rape, along with Starscream's, the memories of torturing others and of murder, of domination. He would need to fortify himself.

"Justice," the navy mech breathed as he gathered his thoughts into a mental lance, and sent it speeding past the outer layers of consciousness.

Getting through Megatron's mind was not easy. The dark thoughts were like quagmire. If you slipped, you would be dragged down, never to return. He persevered, dodging the blocks a desperate Megatron tried to throw up to derail him.

He almost succeeded when the warlord flashed an image of his rape.

It was painful and humiliating to see, just for that split second, but Soundwave broke past it with a grunt, finally reaching a part of his consciousness which was empty, which he could control. There, for a moment, the telepath lamented. There was no part of Megatron that anyone could pity. He had once been fair. Only for the hunger for power to warp his core in such a way that sympathy had no hope of being applied.

"You will feel my pain…my despair," he whispered into all facets of the evil mind, hearing it reverberate within his own psyche.

Everything that he felt when he first arrived at the Ark after his abuse he slammed through Megatron's mind, calling up his pain and searing it through his enemy's body like Megatron had been the one to experience it.

For the first time in a long, long time, Megatron screamed in pain.

The mechs watching flinched back, none wanting to know exactly _what_ Soundwave was doing with his telepathy. To the viewers, they were both standing, looking forward, but not really seeing.

In Megatron's mind, Soundwave pushed another barrage of emotion forth, of shame, of despair, letting the black hole of depression threaten to engulf the warmonger like it had threatened to engulf his own self.

"You did this," he murmured.

The grey mech only snarled, trying to push the telepath out of his mind.

Soundwave switched and called up other techniques of causing mental pain.

One moment Megatron felt like he was being stabbed a million times, the next he was being ripped apart by a variety of mechs, and the next he was overwhelmed in black fire, surrounding all of him, making him melt away into nothingness. And yet more was in store for him as Soundwave extracted his revenge for himself, for Blaster, for Starscream and his trine, and for all who had suffered under the tyrant. He made the grey mech feel as if he was being dissected by humans, having his spark ripped out and eaten, suffocated to death, and a myriad of other demises, none of which would never seem fitting enough for Soundwave.

At long last, he pulled out of Megatron's mind, wishing not to be in contact with it anymore.

It appeared his objective was achieved.

Megatron was huddled on the ground, rocking back and forth and groaning in pain, hands clutched to his helm.

"Death will almost be too good to you," Soundwave and Starscream said, having had the same thought as they looked at his form.

Starscream stepped forward, slapping energon cuffs on Megatron's wrists.

Soundwave gently caressed the Seeker's mind with a tendril of thought, seeing the murderous impulse warring with how he had changed over time with the Autobots. As much as he empathised – he too wanted the mech before them deactivated – he knew that it was not right. As much as he and the flier had reason and just cause…it would undo all that they had achieved. Quietly, he murmured to the Seeker, "If we kill him now, we are no better than he is. We should let Prime decide."

Starscream's optics met his with a blank look, underneath which was a hidden look of disappointment and understanding.

They turned, leaving Megatron huddled in the dirt, humiliated and beaten in front of his surrendering troops and before his enemies. They approached Optimus as one, and they could tell he was impressed with their restraint.

"What should we do?" Starscream asked quietly.

Optimus considered the two brave mechs, and then Megatron, defeated. The Matrix pulsed at him, the knowledge of Primes past giving him thoughts. They were all unanimous.

_Deactivation will finally stop the war_.

He agreed, but it went against his most cherished belief. '_Freedom is the right of all sentient beings.'_

However, another part of him argued, there would be no freedom if Megatron was still alive.

Optimus surveyed the gathered mechs from both armies. He noted that the other Decpeticons except for Megatron looked starved, tired, like they hadn't had a good recharge for months. It rankled at him that the warlord would treat his soldiers this way. He studied his own precious Autobots, his family, regardless of all the craziness they could go through sometimes. They were ready for any order.

"Sir?"

Prowl's soft voice caught his attention and he nodded at his loyal SIC. The mech had Ravage trailing behind him, the feline looking supremely pleased with his feat.

"Yes Prowl?"

The Praxian's doorwings twitched before he said, "If I may place forward a solution? It is obvious to me that it is the greatest wish of a majority of the mechs here to see his deactivation, and yet, we cannot know who is the one to kill him, as it will go against our beliefs. So…the only viable outcome is that we _all_ cause his deactivation."

Mechs nearby started muttering, and some nodded, while others frowned.

Jazz sauntered up behind his mate then, energon covering his frame. He piped in, "Like what? We gather in a circle around that bag o' bolts and we all close our optics and shoot him? So no one knows who precisely killed him and so we can't assign blame?"

Prowl smirked, optics flashing as he stole a glance toward the grey mech who was still looking at the ground in his stupor. "Of course. It is most logical. We cannot do as we did with Shockwave, with spark stasis. Megatron has caused this war. He has sacrificed our planet and it's mechs. He is cruel. There is a chance for peace if he no longer lives."

The great red and blue Autobot leader said to all the mechs, "Who agrees with Prowl's reasoning?"

To Optimus's surprise, a great deal of the mechs raised their hands. Even a subdued Motormaster, who looked very regretful (and had expressed as much to his gestalt once Megatron let slip of the way he had abused his mechs) raised his hand. The only mechs who didn't raise their hands were Beachcomber, who was simply laying down, resting and listening, and Perceptor, who looked a bit nervous at the thought.

He nodded, and held his large black plasma rifle in front of him, aiming it squarely at Megatron, who had now raised his helm and glared at all the raised hands.

"The public has spoken. We will all participate in the last barrier to possible peace for _all_ Cybertronians," Optimus rumbled in his great voice. "Circle around, hold your weapons straight and true."

It was the first act of unity for the both factions as Autobots and Decepticons alike moved into an expansive circle around Megatron, who was growling and cursing all the while, and extending their weapons.

Soundwave extended his sonic cannon.

He knew in the moment his shot would hit, there would only be one regret.

That Ratchet and Blaster weren't here to take their own shots.

Starscream and his trine lined up to the side of Soundwave, null rays at the ready, turned up to their highest degree. The tricoloured Seeker looked on with grim determination, Thundercracker having drawn the symbol for 'reassurance' on his wing. He was glad to have his trine here. Thundercracker looked vindicated, glad for having the chance to inflict damage on the one who hurt his lover. Skywarp was smirking. He joked to his trinemates, "I'm aiming for his mouth."

It was still for a few moments, all the mechs steadily trained on their target.

"Three," Optimus called out, beginning the countdown.

Mechs cocked their weapons, ignoring the ranting warlord in the centre of the circle.

"Two."

Anticipation mounted.

"One…FIRE!"

The battlefield was filled by a simultaneous series of 'BOOM!'s, the clicking of weapons, the discharge of rounds. They all headed towards the figure at the centre, like a firework imploding, the smoke trails coming from each weapon making the advent of destruction almost beautiful.

In that split second before the projectiles from different weapons hit, each mech closed their optics, not wanting to know _which_ shot hit first.

With a thundering '_**KRACKA-BOOM**__!'_ an explosion worthy of Wheeljack lit up the area, swallowing up the figure of Megatron within its epicentre. The shockwave from the amount of firepower made some mechs stumble, but they opened their optics to see the fiery destruction of their collective, ultimate enemy.

The fire roared, and some thought they could hear a strangled cry, but it was soon snatched away by the crackle of flame that seemed to last forever. It kept burning and burning, until finally it began to die down.

Jazz was the first to move towards the receding flames. Inferno decided to help out, shooting a jet of water out of his hose hand towards the blaze.

The saboteur approached, seeing something hulking and smoking in the centre, following the blast lines.

Silence reigned once more, and all watched as Jazz poked at something, before grabbing hold of it and dragging it out so all could see.

"We did it!" he cried out jubilantly as all could see what he saw.

All that was left of the former warlord was a twisted fusion cannon, a charred arm, and half his torso, blackened, with scorch marks and was half melted in places. Towards the spot where Megatron once kneeled, they could all see the melted slag of his helmet and other body parts.

It took a few moments for the fact that Megatron was _dead_ and gone, no longer alive to terrorise and harm, to sink in.

Suddenly Sideswipe let out a whoop of joy and tackled his twin in a hug, yelling, "No more worrying about if you're going to come home!"

It broke other mechs.

Gestalts turned to each other to hug and laugh, letting their guards down with their gestaltmates.

The Coneheads rose up and circled each other in joy, the triple changers and Aerialbots joining them in zipping through the sky in jubilation.

Starscream was literally glomped by his trinemates, who were grinning at him. They let go of him soon after to rejoice in their own way. By kissing the life out of each other. The tricoloured mech could only smile endearingly at them. It was good to see them happy. A large presence came up behind him, and a hand gently stroked his wing. Without turning around, Starscream knew it was Skyfire. With the death of Megatron, something had vanished deep within him. His wariness and fear had lessened, and it felt so right to accept the touch from the large shuttle.

Leaning back into the comfort, Starscream asked, "Was that as gratifying for you as it was for me?"

"Yes it was," murmured Skyfire happily, smiling at how the smaller flier accepted his touch without any hesitation.

Starscream turned then, optics sparkling with delight. He activated his thrusters so he could get up to Skyfire's height without having to strain himself, and gave him a simple kiss on the cheek. Arms wrapped around him and held him close, and he felt his spark hum in contentment.

He was safe.

Around the battlefield, Decepticons tentatively began to talk to the Autobots, feeling awkward after so long of animosity.

Optimus went around, assuring that they would be safe under his leadership, and that they would be fed and housed. He met with the leader of each gestalt, shook hands with the other mechs, and felt tears of happiness pooling in his optics. A fresh start had been all that they needed. This was a new beginning. He hoped it was the beginning of a new Golden Age for Cybertronians, a time of equality and peace.

It was all that he wished for his people.

Prowl had taken Jazz into his arms, both content with each other and feeding each other pulses of love through their bond. The thought that they may no longer have to fear that the other half of them would never return from a mission was a blazingly happy thought.

Soundwave watched all this happen, and smiled beneath his mask.

Surrounded by his creations, seeing the end of the war if all went well, the only thing that would make this moment sweeter, was to have his friend and romantic interest by his side.

* * *

><p><strong>A few days later…<strong>

* * *

><p>It was cool, the air smelt clean, and he was laying on a berth that was nowhere near as soft as his own. Slowly booting up, Blaster gradually unshuttered his optics to see the familiar bright colour of the Ark's ceiling above him.<p>

More specifically, in the medbay.

He took a moment to catalogue his injuries and how well they had healed. All his minor damage had healed, but he could feel an ache in his joints where Counterpunch had broken them. His shoulder also throbbed dully, but it didn't matter. It was repaired. His face was fully repaired too, and for that he was even more grateful.

Blaster smiled. "Aw, Ratchet, you're a gem," he murmured out loud.

"He is, isn't he?"

The soft voice startled Blaster, and he shot up, images not calibrating right in his optics as he sat up with too much force. Gentle hands laid on his shoulders, pressing him back down. "Ease," the smooth, calming voice said.

Blaster only smiled wider. He could recognise that voice anywhere. "Hey 'Wave," he croaked out, vocaliser hissing static.

When his vision cleared, he saw the unmasked face of his love, looking down at him in concern from that gorgeous ruby visor. The red mech would do whatever Soundwave wanted, as long as it eased his stress.

"Blaster…I am so glad you are awake," said the blue mech softly, taking one of his friend's hands securely in his own, squeezing it in comfort.

"Mmm, me too. Tell me, what did I miss?"

There was a small smirk on Soundwave's face, free and unhindered. It made Blaster perk up a bit. This _had_ to be good news.

"In short, you missed the end of the war."

Blaster gaped. "Are you kidding?"

Soundwave shook his helm, saying, "No. The war has ended. There is no more 'Decepticon' any more. Merely Autobot and Cybertronian as a group. Megatron is no longer living and we are all free."

The tone was so relieved, so joyous, that Blaster attempted to sit up again, wanting to throw his arms around the mech in his own joy. "This is awesome! No more fear! Only hope! So tell me, how did it happen?"

The telepath managed to get Blaster laying down once more, and told him. About the rescue, how the Decepticons had gotten tired of the illusion that Megatron portrayed for them and how they joined in with the Autobots in aiding Megatron's defeat and deactivation. Finally, he told the prone mech about how the mechs were getting along quite well, all circumstances considered. Optimus had won the ex-Con's allegiance by treating them all fairly and by giving them, as promised, fuel and shelter.

"Wow…figures though. I miss out on the end of the war," Blaster mock-pouted.

Soundwave turned serious for a moment, and murmured, "I would rather you miss out on the war than miss out on life. You didn't…you didn't get to experience what Megatron had planned for you…I saw it in his processor. He truly went insane."

The boom box reached out to Soundwave's face, caressing it.

"My hero," he murmured.

The visor seemed to focus on him more intensely, and Soundwave asked quietly, "Do you remember the last thing you said before you fell into unconsciousness?"

Blaster paused, recalling those hazy moments of consciousness. Seeing Soundwave coming for him like an angel from the heavens, seeing that face twisted in anxiousness for him…and then…those simple words he had whispered. He blushed, looking up into that visor. There was no rejection, no wariness. Just open acceptance. Hope bloomed within him, and he smile a small, happy smile. "I said I love you. Never doubt it Main Machine. I care about you so, so much."

Soundwave smiled then, brightly, and Blaster knew that he had chosen the right choice in deciding to be upfront in his feelings.

Just when the blue mech opened his mouth to say the words in return, a grumpy looking Ratchet bustled into the room, cursing softly under his breath.

"…slaggin' twins underfoot. Can't give me a bit of personal space lately…"

And like that, the moment was broken, although Soundwave allowed Blaster to hold his hand close, allowing that intimate contact.

The medic snorted, "About time you booted up. You had your cassettes, Soundwave, and Soundwave's cassettes worrying over you. I thought Prowl was a bad worrier, but this about takes the cake I tell you." Blaster snickered at it, but willingly hushed when Ratchet used his patented glare on him, and let him do his job.

He had turned his helm to look at Soundwave the whole time, hoping to communicate with his optics just how much he loved the mech.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Before anyone panics, NO, THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! **

**Okay, there we go ;D**

**Please review! I so love your reviews! I hope you found Megatron's demise satisfactory and that the battle scenes were good. I suck at battle scenes most of the time, so I'm hoping I hit the spot with this one. Happy new year guys! 2012 is going to be big!**

**P.s: OVER 450 REVIEWS! I bet by the end of this fic, we can make it to 500….who's with me?**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N:** **I'm just going to say a HUGE thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers. You guys give me the biggest warm fuzzies with your reviews (EEE! So close to 500!), and I am so glad you all liked the way I dealt with Megatron. Thank you also to those who have favourited and alerted this story. **

**Warnings: Slash, kissing, fluff**

**Disclaimer: **Hahaha….no, Transformers is not mine. Nor are Lionel Richie songs.

* * *

><p>Turning Point – Chapter 28<p>

* * *

><p>When Blaster woke once more, he found that he was alone.<p>

Although he wished that Soundwave would have stayed, he understood that the blue mech had their cassettes to care for and comm. duty to attend while he was out of action. Groaning as he sat up, the red mech stretched, feeling for what still ached in his frame. His joints had been re-set perfectly, but he would need some time to get used to them. All new joints were a bit stiff before everyday wear smoothed them out. His sensor net registered as functional, and he was perfect in every other way physically.

Gingerly stepping forward out of the room Ratchet had placed him in for privacy, he found he could walk fine, if a bit slowly.

He couldn't stop the soft smile that crossed his features when he saw Ratchet and Hook talking softly together.

"You know, something burned in my processor the day that I had to repair the results of Starscream's assault…why didn't you do anything?" the white medic asked, forcefully keeping his tone neutral. The balance between the Autobots and the ex-Con's was tenuous, and he had no desire to spark the more volatile tempers.

Shrugging, the Constructicon replied, "There are things that I've done that I'm not proud of. That is one of them. But Megatron's orders were finite. To break them was to open myself and my gestalt up to further degradation and starvation. And while a bit selfish, I did not want any harm to come to my gestalt."

Sighing, Ratchet murmured, "I can't fault you for that, I guess. Still it would have been better for us all if we had known what was happening."

"True. I must tell you though…it is pleasant to be in a proper medbay once more. Orderly. Clean. Perfect."

This time the Autobot CMO snorted, "Yeah, until some slagger who got into a brawl over some polish or something equally idiotic comes in."

Blaster chuckled, drawing the attention of both medics to him. Ratchet scowled at him. "Did I say you could leave?" he questioned, giving the red mech his patented 'evil optic.'

"Nah. But I'd thought I'd beg forgiveness than ask permission," Blaster replied with a cheeky wink.

Ratchet's scowl lessened and he said, "Well, if you are joking, you might as well get out of here. I have no less than 11 coding reprogrammings to do today, and it's going to be hard work to remove the violence coding from Vortex and Motormaster alone, not to mention the other 9."

Perking up at the go ahead, Blaster bounced jauntily out of the medbay, helm held high. He couldn't wait to be back in his quarters, sleep in his own berth, and hopefully cuddle with Soundwave. It sounded like the perfect way to spend the rest of the day.

It was good to see Autobots mingling, albeit hesitantly, with the ex-Cons as he walked down to his quarters. He saw new doors everywhere, and he grinned. According to Soundwave in the scant 20 minutes they had together the day previous, the Constructicons were working with Grapple and Hoist to make space for the surrendering mechs, also building branches of quarters off the Ark. So far their work seemed to be going well, he noted. He waved to Bluestreak who passed him chatting away to Thundercracker and Skywarp, who were discussing plans for them to move into a bigger rooms.

Smiling at those he passed, he eventually made it to the quiet of the corridor in which his quarters resided. A warm wash of contentment flowed over him as he opened up the bond to his creations fully, feeling their excitement and their love for him.

Typing the code in and palming the door open, Blaster took no more than three steps into his rooms before he was tackled by nine small bodies, all radiating joy.

"Score!"

"You're back!"

"Ratchet kept you beyond the usual amount of time allotted…"

"How are you? Does it still hurt?"

"We missed you!"

Wrapping his arms around both his cassettes and Soundwave's, Blaster grinned widely. "Yeah guys, the Blast-man is back! I'm all good thanks to Ratch."

Ramhorn and Steeljaw nuzzled him before wiggling out of the cuddle pile, as did Laserbeak and Buzzsaw. He didn't mind though. He knew that they were the least publically affectionate, and that in their own way this had been like a gift to him. Ratbat was the most cuddly, which was to be expected. The little purple bat let out a happy chirr, hogging Blaster's left shoulder. Eject and Rewind took up his right side, curling close to his spark, while Rumble and Frenzy grinned at him from his chestplates.

"Ya made Dad play hero. Gave him a lot of his self-confidence back," remarked Rumble casually.

Blaster continued to smile warmly. "I did, didn't I?"

They chuckled as they clambered off him, now content to finally give him his space.

Into his vision stepped Soundwave, smiling his small, tender smile at him which made his spark spin in a frenzy. If possible, his smile got wider as he whispered, "Hey there my Main Machine."

"Good to see you up," replied the telepath softly.

"Good to be up!" crowed Blaster, getting up from where he was sprawled on the floor.

"Good. For we have to be part of the entertainment tonight," said Soundwave, his smile turning into a secretive smirk.

Well, there went Blaster's visions of talking over with Soundwave how much he loved him and wanted him and…well, you know. His smile dimmed as he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I have volunteered us both to play music for Prowl and Jazz tonight as they go for a date night out in the woods to celebrate the end of the war. After all, I owe the both of them. They helped overcome my fears and orchestrated the plan to rescue you and to end the nonsense that we all called a war. They had a large hand in it, apart from Prime," explained the blue mech softly, visor dimming in his thought.

Shrugging, figuring it couldn't hurt, Blaster replied, "Sure, why not? Might be fun."

"Mm…I'll see you later. I must go to my shift on comms to make sure no rogue Decepticons decide to do something," Soundwave said, and without another glance at Blaster, he left.

The red mech felt a bit deflated. Had he read the signs wrong? Did this mean that Soundwave rejected his declaration of love? Sighing, he pushed the negative thoughts out. Whatever will be, will be, he reckoned. Looking around at the assembled cassettes, he noticed that the eldest one was missing. "Hey guys. Where's Ravage?"

Frenzy cackled as Ratbat answered, "Dad gave him a massage and a wax because of what he did in the battle."

"And what did Ravage do?" asked Blaster. This was new to him.

"When he was on that mission, you know, the one where Soundwave was freaking out?" asked Rumble with a grin. "Turned out that kitty-kat planted a virus that controlled all of the Nemesis's systems, so when it was time for battle, it was _way_ too easy to put the odds on our side."

Nodding excitedly, Ratbat continued, "So in reward, Dad pampered him, and now he's sleeping because he was so relaxed."

The boom box couldn't help it. The mental image of Ravage acting like a human cat and purring was too much…and so he laughed.

* * *

><p>Prowl and Jazz had not been the only mechs to make arrangements that evening.<p>

High above the Ark, a shuttle chased a speeding tricolour Seeker through the atmosphere, revelling in the pure, untainted sound of Starscream's laughter floating back to him on the wind. He caught each sound and cherished it.

Ever since Megatron's death, the Seeker had improved in leaps and bounds, as if the shackles of the warlord's existence had bound him and prevented him from healing previously.

Now, he was free.

There was no doubt that there was still some mental and emotional healing to be done, but they were getting there. Inching towards that goal of wholeness, of not feeling worthless, but instead a survivor, a fighter. They were working on it.

Together.

Skyfire rumbled a laugh in return as Starscream executed a death defying series of loops and turns that would leave even the greatest fliers dizzy and nauseous.

Which was why Starscream was the best.

"You have gotten better," Skyfire said with a broad, kindly smile as he transformed into mech mode, hovering and watching the Seeker's own graceful transformation.

"Well, of course," Starscream replied teasingly, if a little haughtily. But Skyfire didn't mind it at all. He accepted Starscream as the whole package. His spark was big enough for that, he mused quietly as Starscream glided over to him, crimson optics dancing with delight.

"You know Skyfire…you have been so good to me," the tricolour mech whispered to him.

"Always will be," replied the larger mech.

The smaller mech's smile turned tender, which made Skyfire's spark leap in his chest. Starscream just had that effect on him. He waited for the Seeker to make the moves, all too aware that the balance between them could go either way, especially with Starscream's temperament.

Starscream moved closer, loosely wrapping his arms around Skyfire's neck, now openly grinning.

"So, my big silly mech. If I told you I loved you, what would you do?"

The shuttle grinned back. "I would tell you I love you right back."

"Mmm…good thing I love you then," Starscream whispered, and before Skyfire could register what he had planned, he leaned forward and pressed his lips into the other's, swallowing the surprised sound that he emitted. He pulled away after the brief contact, optics sparkling with a mischief he had not felt in a long time. "That one was free," he teased, "if you want some more, you'll have to catch me."

He gave another quick peck to the side of Skyfire's mouth, before jetting off, laughing at the stunned and giddy expression on his love's face.

Skyfire transformed back into alt mode, grinning stupidly on the inside, his spark dancing joyfully inside his chestplates. He always believed in true love.

Now, he was chasing it.

* * *

><p>That night, curled up in alt mode next to a certain tape deck player, Blaster wished that Soundwave had acknowledged him a bit more. He felt like their relationship was on rocky ground now that he had revealed his feelings – Soundwave's seeming non-acknowledgement unnerving him. The possibility that Soundwave did not feel the same for him was looking very real now.<p>

Still, he was not there for solely Soundwave. They were playing soft jazz music, far enough away from Prowl and Jazz as to give them privacy, but close enough that their music could be heard by the couple. They were sitting together on a blanket, leaning against each other as they drank energon, shared sweet goodies, and murmured soft endearments to each other. It was cute in Blaster's opinion. The two black and whites were not perfect, but they were damn close to it when they were together. He sighed softly, causing a hiccup in the music he played.

Soundwave's EM field brushed over him questioningly, but he batted it away gently. He didn't really feel like elaborating.

Especially when an echo of loneliness came from within his spark once Jazz tilted his helm and began to kiss his mate, slowly at first, and then passion built.

Prowl, having more of his wits about him, softly pushed his lover away for a moment to turn to the two music players.

"Thank you for your services tonight. You provided the ambience I wanted. There is no need to stay here any longer," the tactician murmured to them, gratitude clear in each syllable.

Blaster transformed first, winking at them. "Have fun you two."

Soundwave followed suit, only more sedate, as he nodded and wished both black and whites well.

The red mech turned to the blue, and asked quietly, "Walk with me?"

"Always," murmured the telepath.

It calmed the boom box's nervousness slightly at least.

Blaster led the way. They weren't too far from his favourite spot, where the waterfall crested the small lip of the river and cascaded down. The spot where he felt his desire roar to life when he recalled Soundwave stretching in the shimmering sunlight, causing his dark plating to sparkle…

They were silent, but it wasn't uncomfortable. By some unspoken agreement, they both knew the time for words was not until they reached the bank of the river.

They finally reached the spot, and both studied the area.

Moonlight shone through the branches of the trees, bathing the landscape in a soft silver. It made the world beautiful, ethereal. The surface of the river looked kissed by starlight, painting the trees with the moonlight, and dappled the two mechs with the colour. A few crickets chirped their lullabies, and a light breeze twirled around their frames.

"It's always so nice here, ya know?" Blaster started, a bit awkwardly. "And whenever I came here, I always thought about you. How you were doing. If you were all right. And then…you came to me. Not alright. But I didn't care about that. I cared about making you better again. Stronger once more. And now…you are." He turned, drawing a bit closer to the mech he loved, staring into that visor. Something that had been troublesome in the back of his mind since he woke up in the medbay that first time, he decided to voice aloud. "And now, you're here. In front of me. And I wonder now that you're stronger…do you even need me anymore?"

Soundwave's posture relaxed, and the soft smile he reserved for Blaster alone spread across his face. "I do," he whispered.

Blaster looked hopeful for a moment, but then it disappeared. "Did I push too far? You know…when I told you that I love you?"

"No…you didn't," replied the blue mech.

Soft clicks filled the air, and Blaster gasped as that ruby visor lifted away to reveal…

Amber optics.

Shock bolted through him, before tears inexplicably came to his own cerulean optics. He stumbled forward, lost in that soft amber gaze. His hands, trembling, reached up to cup Soundwave's face as he gasped again, finding _so much_ emotion there. With a sob of joy, he whispered, "You kept them…all this time…you kept your beautiful, unique optics."

Hands came to rest outside of his own, squeezing gently. "I did. I didn't know why at first…when I joined…but…" Soundwave too, was emotional, voice trembling with his own repressed feelings. "I wanted something to keep from our days together as roommates. You were always so special to me then. So I never changed the colour of my optics. As a reminder of you…"

They stared into each other, and any possible barrier between them was shattered, leaving them open and raw to one another. One of Blaster's hands slipped from the metallic cheek to curl around his love's side, drawing him closer to that their plating touched and their faces inched closer together.

As Soundwave wrapped his arms around Blaster's neck, the red mech asked, "Do you trust me?"

"I trust you. So much. I care for you…I…I love you," whispered Soundwave in return, allowing the contact, knowing it felt _right_ and _good_ and _wonderful_.

"I love you…always protect you," mumbled Blaster, his spark singing with elation at the softly spoken words of love, shuttering his optics part-way and moving forward so that his lips brushed against the other mechs. The telepath gasped, feeling the tingle from the faint contact, and knew instantly he wanted more of it. He pressed forward as Blaster did, their mouths meeting at last in a tender caress.

The touch of lips to lips sent tingles running up and down their spinal struts, their sparks thudding as they both realised that this was what they had needed all this time.

Blaster kept the kiss chaste, innocent, content to move their lips together without bringing glossae into play. They would go slow. He pulled away a few times, only to give in when Soundwave pressed against him for more contact.

Soundwave sagged into Blaster's arms, feeling so loved, loving in return, feeling safe, knowing that _this_ was home.

When they finally pulled away, they were breathless, optics meeting again.

The boom box merely held Soundwave tighter to him, brushing his lips over his cheek and helm, whispering to the blue mech how much he loved him. Soundwave purred softly, snuggling into his arms in the most contented manner. After a while, Blaster played some soft music to convey how he felt for the mech in his arms.

_I've been alone with you inside my mind_

_And in my dreams I've kissed your lips a thousand times_

_I sometimes see you pass outside my door..  
><em>

Soon they felt the music wash over them, and they began to sway in that way that all true love's do, the moment perfect.

_Hello..._

_Is it me you're looking for?_

_I can see it in your eyes_

_I can see it in your smile_

_You're all I've ever wanted_

_And my arms are open wide_

_Because you know just what to say_

_And you know just what to do_

_And I want to tell you so much..._

_I love you  
><em>

"Sometimes I think I don't deserve you...you are too wonderful to me," Soundwave murmured.

"No sweetspark. Sometimes I think it's _I_ who don't deserve you," replied Blaster, hands stroking and kneading over the others back in soothing patterns. He smiled as he felt the other's faceplates warm with the term of endearment.

_I long to see the sunlight in your hair_

_And tell you time and time again_

_How much I care_

_Sometimes I feel my heart will overflow  
><em>

"Mmm, sometimes I feel my spark will overflow," the red mech sung in tandem with the crooner.

_Hello..._

_I've just got to let you know_

_Because I wonder where you are_

_And I wonder what you do_

_Are you somewhere feeling lonely?_

_Or is someone loving you?_

_Tell me how to win your heart_

_For I haven't got a clue_

_But let me start by saying...I love you  
><em>

The pair continued to sway, drinking in the peace of the moment, of how wonderfully warm the other's plating was, and basking in the heat in the cool night air.

_Hello..._

_Is it me you're looking for?_

_Because I wonder where you are_

_And I wonder what you do_

_Are you somewhere feeling lonely?_

_Or is someone loving you?_

_Tell me how to win your heart_

_For I haven't got a clue_

_But let me start by saying I love you_

"You are a wonderful sap," Soundwave smiled as he lifted his helm from Blaster's neck, wide golden-amber optics shimmering with the love he felt in return.

"You learn to adapt. Don't think I can stop loving you now I've said it," Blaster replied, chuckling.

And he didn't mind it at all when Soundwave silenced him by melding their lips together once more.

He could feel it in a the way his love held himself and still held onto him. He felt whole again. Blaster smiled into the kiss.

Soundwave had truly come home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that, my friends, is the end.**

I just have one question to ask my reviewers: Should I put smex in the epilogue, or just start a new story completely with lots of smex and love between Blaster and Soundwave as they evolve as a couple?

*cries* I can't believe it's over! I just finished my biggest fic yet! It's so hard to say goodbye!

But, I cannot forget my loyal reviewers and other viewers. You guys have been with me the whole journey, and I just want to say thank you. To **ALL** of you. It's been a wild ride. As I re-read this fic, I see how my writing has improved, and most of it is because of the support of all those who urged me continue with the plot line, even though it was so challenging to write. So…**THANKS SO MUCH YOU GUYS *cuddles***

A special thank you to Katea-Nui, who would proof read sections of this for me if I was unsure of the scene and how it would work. Thanks sweetie!

And CodeRed73 for their suggestions and HUGE reviews.

To SunnySides of Blue for that suggestion to make Sounders see Prowl and Jazz facing XD

And to the countless other insights and suggestions made. It's a huge list of reviewers I have!

Thank you all!

Love DE17


	29. AUTHORS NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

First of all, thank you to everyone who reviewed once more. You guys are all amazing. I enjoyed reading your feedback so much.

Second of all, to those who don't know, I AM doing a sequel to this story. I think that the characters have further to go, and there is room for growth between them.

However, I will gently remind you all that uni will begin again soon, and I do work a lot (after all, we all have to make a living). So I ask for patience as you all wait for this sequel. I promise it will be started by April at the very latest. I do have many things going on in real life, and I'm sure you all can understand.

Not to mention my muse is being a bit tricky lately...

But again, thanks you for reviewing and adding me to my favourites.

-Darkeyes17


	30. ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE

**I know I promised a long chapter sequel. I regret to inform you that it WON'T be happening. For those who have me on LiveJournal you'll understand why all work has ceased on my fics. But for those who don't, I'm just letting you know that:**

***My muse has died. **

***I have depression.**

***A new job prevents me from writing much.**

***And I just can't force myself to write.**

**However, there is some happiness on the horizon. **

**I am doing a one-shot sequel that should be out within the next day. I think it might be my last hurrah at TF fiction to be honest. **

**I'm sorry to have disappointed you all, but I can't force myself to deliver a substandard product. **

**But I hope you have enjoyed my writing. I have enjoyed having all of your support. **

**All my love**

**Darkeyes17**


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